The Ash Connection II: The Rising
by I am Lu
Summary: Seven years have passed since the fall of Team Rocket. Lance, Cynthia, and Alder have left their Championship seats to a new generation of trainers who will face their first true test after Team Plasma terrorizes Iris on the day of her inauguration. Multiple pairings, including Pokeshipping, Contestshipping, and Ikarishipping, among others. Sequel to "The Ash Connection."
1. Prologue

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_'You... You really think I could do it?'_

_'Honestly? I think you could do anything.'_

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**Prologue**

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_**April 27th, 2009. Late Morning. Indigo Plateau**_

Ash Ketchum could faintly hear the stadium's roars of excitement from inside the waiting room. He could feel them, too. The fervor with which the audience cheered gave the building its own pulse, and the wall's vibrations ran through his gloved fingers when he brushed his hand against it.

The Indigo Stadium had received some minor renovations since Ash had last participated in its conference more than eleven years earlier. Tomorrow, April 28th, would mark the 12th year of his journey as well as his 22nd birthday—and things had changed since he was 10-years-old, entering his first league. For one, the date of the Indigo Conference had switched from November to April, since a string of incidents in December 2001 forced gyms to close several months into the new year, thereby causing a delay that became permanent. The waiting room was also different from what he remembered. Framed promotional posters from every year of the famous conference hung on the wall, and Ash paced around the room, looking at all of them.

"Everyone's gonna be watching," he finally said, looking toward the Pikachu perched on his shoulder. There was not a sign of apprehension in his voice; rather, he sounded determined, excited even. "We better not let them down."

"Pika." Pikachu smiled confidently, assuring his trainer they wouldn't.

"Mr. Ketchum." Ash's head snapped up when he heard his name called. "You have fifteen minutes."

Ash blinked. Once. Twice. Then, a lazy grin spread across his face.

"Right..." Ash adjusted his hat before slowly turning to face the woman behind him. "So, do they normally send Elite Four members to see off trainers in the final round?"

Misty's lips quirked into a strange smile. Still, she hesitated before answering, "No. They normally don't issue fifteen-minute warnings, either. Just ten and five. One of the actual event managers will be here for those. You don't mind, do you?"

"'Course not," Ash replied, chuckling. Misty was satisfied with his response, but she averted her gaze before she spoke again.

"You know," she began carefully, "I'm not supposed to show any favor for one competitor over the other, but I think you know who I'm rooting for."

"If I win, I'll get to face you." The mere idea boosted Ash's conviction, and he clenched his fists. "Man, I'm pumped. I'm gonna win it. I'm gonna make sure it happens. Just you wait for it, Misty. Our battle will be one for the books."

"Sheesh, focus on the battle you have now, not on one that may or may not happen," Misty half-teased as she rolled her eyes. Ash glowered at her.

"May or may not?" he protested. "Aw, come on Mist. I thought you had more faith in me than that."

Misty smiled again before she reached for one of his balled hands. His fingers unraveled at her touch, and she held them.

"No matter the outcome, we'll all be proud of you for making it this far," she said, giving him a gentle squeeze.

"I will win," he persisted.

"I'll hold you to that promise." Misty glanced behind her. "I have to go. Remember, I wasn't here."

"Don't worry," Ash said with a wink as she broke away. "All secrets stay safe with Ash Ketchum. That's a 100 percent guarantee!"

* * *

"What will you do if he wins?" Lance asked the question carefully, though firmly.

Leaf flicked her gaze toward him, her expression unchanged. The stadium hallway where they stood was dim, but a beam of sunlight from the battlefield's entrance fell across her face and lit a blue fire in her eyes. The lounge level was nearly empty, if only because most of the audience members were seated and excitedly waiting for the final round of the Indigo Conference to begin.

"The same thing I will do if the other guy wins," she answered shortly. "Why, are you worried? Because Ash is a friend? Either way, I will make sure the winner has a fair shake with the Elite Four and, if it comes to it, myself—unlike last time."

"Still upset about that?" Lance raised an eyebrow.

"I think it's my job to be."

"Well, I suppose we'll disagree there."

"And why's that?"

"I think there are much more important things for you to worry about than pageants, and that's what these conferences are," Lance answered bluntly. "I never liked hosting them."

"I know. I was your shadow for almost a decade, and you made explicitly clear how much you hated the league," Leaf said, letting out a short laugh. "Still, wouldn't it be nice if the Championship seat was a position of honor and not politics? Like it used to be?"

"Nothing can ever be like it used to be."

"Well, I suppose we'll disagree there," Leaf parroted, and an unusual, thin smirk spread across Lance's face. The conversation was left there, as they both turned their heads when they heard footsteps coming in their direction. Misty soon came into view.

"Where've you been?" Lance asked. "Not breaking the impartiality clause, I hope."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Misty said lightly. She didn't let his intimations phase her.

"Don't give her a hard time, Lance." Leaf then cast a sly, knowing look toward Misty. "That's for me to do now."

Lance grunted a semblance of a chuckle before saying, "Then I'll leave you two to yourselves. I'm returning to the Champion Box. Don't be too long. I expect the match will begin soon."

The two young woman watched Lance sweep out of sight. Once he was gone, Leaf cleared her throat to speak.

"I'm not actually going to chastise you," she said.

"That's all right, because I didn't actually see Ash."

"How is he?" Leaf was undeterred.

"Confident," Misty answered, though she still wondered if Leaf would jump on her indirect admission that she had spoken with Ash. Leaf was difficult to read, and she was capable of manipulating answers out of people if she wanted them—like how she had just done. Luckily, Leaf didn't seem to mind.

"I hope you're ready then," she said.

Misty looked at the Indigo Champion questioningly.

"For what?" she asked.

Leaf didn't hesitate when she answered, "For when he wins."

* * *

"Careful there, professor," Tracey gently warned, pausing to help the aged Oak into his seat, between Delia and Daisy. Delia also reached out to assist, while Brock cast him a concerned look.

"Are you sure you don't want us to call Gary, professor?" Brock asked carefully. "He said Leaf was more than willing to give you access to the Champion Box. The seating in there would be much more comfortable and less dangerous for a man of, er, your condition."

"Nonsense, nonsense," Professor Oak said, waving a dismissive hand. "These bones may be old, but they've got plenty of toughness in them. Besides, the Champion Box has an impartial policy, and that's no good. We've got to be showing our support for Ash, right Delia?"

Delia smiled crookedly.

"Right," she agreed, setting her hands back into her lap. Tracey returned to his seat beside his wife, Daisy. It wasn't long, however, before Delia began nervously twiddling her thumbs, keeping her head low. Brock quickly noticed.

"Nervous?" he inquired.

Delia lifted her eyes and turned her gaze toward him.

"I'm his mother," she said simply. "I want him to succeed."

Brock nodded understandingly, but said, "Well, you can be assured whatever happens, Ash will have put up his absolute best fight."

"Oh, I know," she said, smiling once more. "I would be disappointed if he didn't—and he never lets me down."

_**April 27th, 2009. Late Morning. Petalburg City.**_

"Max?" Ken, the now-grown Petalburg Gym assistant, poked his head into the living room, where the Maple family plus Drew—who was effectively a part of the Maple family anyway—were waiting for the television broadcast of the final round of the Indigo Conference to begin. "There's a trainer who wants to battle you for the Balance Badge."

Max frowned before adjusting his glasses. Even when the gym had a closed sign, hard-headed challengers still showed up on his family's doorstep.

"Tell them they'll have to wait," Max sighed. "I'll see them today, but it's going to be a couple hours. They can go grab lunch or do some extra training beforehand. Ash's match is about to begin any minute."

"Better yet," Caroline began with a smile, "invite them inside to watch with us! We have small sandwiches and juice."

Max and Norman exchanged furtive glances, each wearing sour expressions. Norman then looked to Ken and discreetly shook his head "no." Ken understood the message and nodded.

"Okay, I'll... make the offer," he told Caroline before disappearing once again.

May rolled her eyes but stifled a laugh. Drew cracked a rare smile and reached for her hand, silently reassuring her she didn't need to be embarrassed. She reciprocated his grip and smile, a signal that she already knew.

_**April 27th, 2009. Late Morning. Fortree City.**_

"So..." Winona drawled as she sat beside her husband. "What do you predict will be the outcome of this?"

Wallace blinked, the intensity of his expression softening. He loosened the tension in his upper frame, allowing her to lean against him. The anticipation for the match had caused his body to unconsciously turn rigid.

"I'm not sure," he admitted. "I may know Ash, but I don't know him as a trainer. I haven't had the pleasure of battling him, like you."

"That's not what I meant," Winona clarified. "The victor of the match isn't that important. What do you believe Leaf will do?"

"Ah." Wallace paused, thinking. "I'm not sure about that, either. Lance said she was very upset, angry even, after the Silver Conference last year. It will be interesting to see how she conducts herself after the match is decided, especially if Ash wins. They are close."

"Mm, well, she had reason to be miffed," Winona mused. "League politics are infuriating. I hope you won't have to deal with them much longer."

Wallace smiled weakly.

"I hope so, too."

_**April 27th, 2009. Late Morning. Snowpoint City.**_

"Come on Zoe-Zoe, put down the notebook," Candice sighed, shaking her head. She was sprawled out on two-thirds of her sofa, while Zoey occupied the final third. The television was turned to the Indigo Conference, but Zoey had been ignoring most of the pre-match coverage to work.

Zoey craned an eyebrow.

"This is all the planning for the class _you_ asked me to teach," she reminded.

"And you've got an entire summer to do it," Candice retorted. Zoey shrugged and continued writing. Candice glowered at her for a long moment before suddenly springing toward her, attempting to grab the notebook. Anticipating the move, Zoey held it out and away from her.

"Aw, did you really think that was going to work?" she teased as she pushed Candice off and fanned herself.

Candice momentarily pouted, but it wasn't long before a second idea struck her. She picked up one of her throw pillows and aimed it straight for Zoey's face. In the moment she was caught off guard, Candice snatched away the notebook.

"No, but that did," Candice said before she began laughing.

_**April 27th, 2009. Late Morning. Veilstone City.**_

"It seems Cedar has fallen asleep," Brandon said at a subdued volume as he held his 2-year-old granddaughter, who was resting her head on his shoulder. Maylene smiled as she reached out and relieved him of the sleeping child. She wore a loose shirt to tastefully conceal that she was a few months into her second pregnancy.

"Thank you," she said with a tired sigh before disappearing upstairs to put her into bed. Brandon turned to locate the remote and unmute the television set.

"You and Paul both have the magic touch," Reggie began, collapsing into a seat and massaging his temple. "Maylene and I can never put her down for a nap when it's just she and I. I don't know what we're going to do when the second one is here."

Brandon's lips twitched into a smile.

"You and your brother were fussy when you were little, too," he said. "That's something Cedar inherited from you. Parenthood is nature's way of payback."

Reggie let out a short laugh before replying, "Funny how that works out."

_**April 27th, 2009. Late Morning. Celestic Town.**_

"Emily, would you like strawberry or grape jam?" Cynthia asked kindly as she glanced up at her nearly 7-year-old daughter from behind the kitchen counter.

Emily laid flat on her belly on the rug in front of the television set, watching the Indigo Conference's pre-match coverage. She looked strikingly like her mother, with blonde hair and light-colored eyes. Steven was seated nearby, reviewing some of his geologic notes from one of his recent excursions as he, too, waited for the match to begin.

"Strawberry," Emily answered shortly. Her eyes never strayed from the screen.

"Strawberry, what?" Steven spoke up.

"Strawberry, please," Emily corrected herself.

Cynthia smiled as she pulled the chosen flavor outside of the fridge, unscrewed the cap, and began to spread a generous amount on a sandwich she was preparing for her daughter.

"One day," Emily began suddenly, breaking the brief lull in conversation, "I'm going to challenge the league and become Champion."

Although she had said it to neither of her parents in particular, both Cynthia and Steven halted what they were doing and exchanged troubled glances.

_**April 27th, 2009. Late Morning. Twinleaf Town.**_

"Ugggh," Barry moaned loudly as he flopped his upper body against the sofa. "How much time is left until it begins? I feel like we've been waiting forever, and the anticipation is killing me!"

"Er..." Kenny paused to flick his wrist over and look at his watch. "The match begins at 11 a.m. Indigo time, so just a few minutes still."

Barry glowered at Kenny before pulling his legs up into his chest and burying his face into the couch cushion. Barry had always been squirmy and unable to sit still for extended periods of time, but it had been especially bad recently. Now, if he did nothing for too long, the sadness would begin to settle back into his head.

"I'm gonna die," he mumbled into the fabric. "I swear, next time we meet up with Leaf, I'm gonna fine her for scheduling the match at such a ridiculous hour and making us wait this long. It'll be double if the match starts late."

Kenny let out a half-hearted chuckle before reaching out to pat his friend on the back.

"Hang in there, buddy," he said.

_**April 27th, 2009. Middle of the night. Lumiose City.**_

"Come on, Clemont!" Bonnie pleaded with her older brother, shaking his upper arm. "You've got to get the stream working! The match is going to begin any moment now, and we can't miss it!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Clemont breathed out. "Sorry, it's hard to think when it's this late."

Both Serena and Bonnie were hovering over Clemont's shoulder, watching as he went through several frustrating attempts to get the site streaming the Indigo Conference to load. Since there was a six-hour time difference between Kalos and the Indigo regions in Napaj, the Indigo and Silver conferences didn't air on Kalos television until several hours after the fact, but the three were determined to watch the battle live.

"Maybe the Wi-Fi just needs to be reset?" Serena suggested, pulling some of her loose hair behind her shoulder. She, along with her companions, were dressed down in their pajamas.

"Yeah!" Bonnie rallied with her. "Have you tried that, Clemont? Try it!"

"Er..." Clemont went to the task bar and pressed 'disconnect.' After waiting a few seconds, he tried reconnecting and pulled the stream back up. It wasn't long before the video feed suddenly began working, and the commentators' voices tuned in. The sounds were met with a collective cheer among the three Kalosian trainers, and Bonnie tightly hugged her brother.

"Serena, you're a genius," Clemont sighed, rolling his head back to smile at her.

_**April 27th, 2009. Late Morning. Indigo Plateau.**_

Several pairs of eyes turned to the door when it opened and in walked Leaf with Misty in tow. The Champion Box was quite nice, with cream carpet and twenty red, padded seats that had a view of the entire battlefield through glass. An open bar was also near the back, though no one was drinking at that hour.

Despite the capacity, there were only seven others in the room. Paul and Dawn both stood together at the front, her Piplup hanging off her shoulder. Gary was seated nearby. The three other Elite Four members of the Indigo regions—Karen, Will, and Lorelei—were sitting together in the second row. Lance had cut himself off from the others, standing behind the last row.

Misty chose to sit beside Gary rather than her fellow Elite Four members. Her relationship with them was civil, but they came from a Champion different from the one who had invited her to fill a vacancy nearly two years earlier. Leaf's rapport among them was similarly strained, because they were Lance's picks and not her own. They afforded her the respect the Championship seat commanded, but Leaf was not close with any of them, as she was with Misty.

Paul had once said it was important for new Champions to have an ally in their Elite Four. Misty knew he probably understood that better than anyone, since he had yet to gain the chance to fill a vacancy following Cynthia's leave. Leaf was lucky in that respect. Misty speculated Lance had asked Koga to retire so Leaf could become a part of the Elite Four for two years before becoming Champion. Her later ascension to the Championship seat meant an empty spot in the Elite Four, allowing Leaf to bring a friend into the fray with her.

Leaf moved toward the front, standing in the space between Gary and Paul.

"What time is it?" she asked, looking toward Gary.

"There is a clock on the wall," he dryly pointed out.

"I would rather inconvenience you than myself."

Gary scowled at her before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his PokéGear. Dawn stifled a chuckle before exchanging a pointed look with Paul.

"It's 10:54 a.m.," Gary finally answered. Leaf nodded before glancing out the window, down at the empty battlefield.

"So a few minutes still..." she trailed off.

Dawn inclined her head toward Leaf.

"Are Iris and Cilan coming?" she asked politely.

"I offered them access here, but they declined," Leaf replied.

"Why?" Paul spoke up, too. "It's not like they would be unwelcome. Iris's inauguration is in less than two weeks."

Leaf shrugged before saying, "Some would prefer to enjoy the battle without the restrictions of the impartiality policy. I'm sure the way they see it, they have two weeks left before they're bound by it. But we can't have people thinking the league is unfair, now can we?"

There was a hint of irony in her tone. Misty crossed one leg over the other, and the other Elite Four members appeared slightly uncomfortable, too. Dawn cast her gaze downward, while Paul stared at Leaf for a long time before flicking his eyes back toward the battlefield. Lance looked on warily as Gary tapped a finger against his jawline, his eyes moving around the room.

The situation, he knew, was an intriguing one.

* * *

"So are you photographing today's match?" Ritchie directed the question toward Trip as they, plus Cilan and Iris, walked down the stadium hallway, heading toward their section of seats.

"No." Trip raised an eyebrow. "If I was, I would (a) have my camera; (b) not be here right now. League photographers are in with the rest of the press photographers on the field."

Ritchie shrugged.

"Just a question," he said. "I thought maybe you would be getting aerial shots."

"Mm..." Trip intoned, now understanding the reasoning, but he still shook his head. "I don't get contacted to photograph league-sponsored events outside of Unova much. Every league division has their own photographers on staff. If anything, more people get sent to Unova, because I'm the only one."

"Yes, and I'll be putting you to good work once I'm your boss," Iris teased, tilting her head to look at him. Her arm was linked with Cilan's.

Trip couldn't help but smirk.

"Ten days coming," he said.

* * *

The deafening screams drowned out the name of the opponent from Viridian City when he entered the stadium; the "Ash Ketchum" that followed shortly after was only discernible among the cheers because he was listening for it.

He stayed in the shadow of the entrance to the stadium seating, lest he risk being seen by someone important. He knew well what the potential consequences of being noticed were, and he did not want to be trapped. Yet, this moment now meant too much, and it meant he was willing to tread one of his enemies' territories.

Even at a long distance, Kamon could see the determination in his brother's expression as he called out his first Pokémon.

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	2. I: In Which Trip Catches the Shot

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**Part I: The Impact**

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Chapter I: In Which Trip Catches The Shot

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_**May 6th, 2009. Early Morning. Slateport City.**_

Drew stood motionless among the moving crowd, his head tilted toward the skylight that lit the opulent lobby. Despite his many years of loyalty to the class—rather, the art—Drew had never set foot inside the Association of Pokémon Coordinators headquarters until then. He knew of other coordinators who had taken a tour through the building or vied for an internship, and while Drew had great interest in the back end of the contest world, he had stuck with performance to maintain relations with his competitors.

When he came to himself again, he lowered his gaze and blinked the dark spots out of his eyes before heading toward the elevator. He pressed the 'up' button and waited. When the metallic doors opened, another young woman stepped in with him.

"What floor?" she asked.

"Seven, please," Drew said politely, and she nodded. She then fell back against the bar, standing a respectable distance away from him.

When the doors opened at the fifth floor, the woman moved forward.

"Good luck with your meeting, Mr. Hayden," she said before disappearing. Drew was stunned, but the doors had closed again before he could call out to her. They had not said a word to each other beyond their brief dialogue in the elevator. They had not even exchanged names. How had she known? He figured she must have been an high-rank employee and that she must have connected his face to his name.

He didn't have much time to ponder on it, however, as the elevator finally reached the seventh floor. He stepped out and looked down the hallway, finding the receptionist. She glanced up as he approached.

"Hello, how may I help you?" she inquired politely.

"I have a meeting with Mr. Contesta," Drew said.

"Ah, right." Her eyes lit up with realization. "Andrew Hayden, correct?"

"Just Drew, please."

"Of course," she said kindly. She leaned over the desk and gestured to a line of chairs against the wall. "Please, make yourself comfortable. Mr. Contesta will be with you in a few minutes. He's very excited to meet with you."

Drew nodded, relieved to hear her say it. He sat down and folded his arms, waiting in a silence that was punctured by the clock hanging on the wall. After perhaps half a minute, he looked for something to occupy his attention, and he saw a stack of that day's issue of the Hoenn Daily newspaper. He picked a copy up, though his gaze narrowed when he saw one of the front-page stories:

**La Rousse Battle Tower Hosts Charity  
Night For Cancer Research**

LA ROUSSE, HOENN — The Battle Tower  
held a charity night Tuesday to raise fu-  
-nds for cancer research.  
The owner and founder of the Battle To-  
wer, Christopher Rogers, was diagnosed  
with skin cancer in late 2005 but has  
been in remission since 2006 after mult-  
-iple treatments of chemotherapy. Rogers  
said he wanted to hold the charity event  
to support cancer research, because he  
understands the struggles associated  
with treatment and recovery.  
"It was a difficult time in my life," Rogers  
said. "It would be wrong of me not to  
help the cause for the cure."

See **BATTLE TOWER**, Page A4

Drew was unable to turn the page and read on, because a nearby door swung open and out came Raoul Contesta.

"Andrew Hayden, what a pleasure to finally meet you outside the contest hall," he said heartily, going to shake Drew's hand. Drew hastily stood up and fumbled with the newspaper, unsure of what to do with it. He finally stuck it under his arm.

"T-The pleasure is all mine, sir," Drew said, grasping Mr. Contesta's hand. He was too flustered to correct him on his name.

Raoul smiled warmly and gestured toward his office, saying, "Come, let's talk."

He gently prodded Drew forward into the small room, shutting the door behind them. Raoul then moved around Drew, returning to his desk. He sat down and invited Drew to do the same.

"So, I see you have a copy of the Hoenn Daily," Raoul unexpectedly began.

"Ah..." Drew retrieved the paper and laid it on his lap. "Yes." He mentally chastised himself, knowing how nervous he was acting. It wasn't every day a coordinator was invited to meet with Mr. Contesta, though. He had been in Drew's audience for years, but they had never spoken alone.

"I was reading it myself earlier," Raoul continued. "It must have been a slow news day. The cover story is a little dull. I will admit that Chris Rogers is an interesting person, though."

"Is that so?" Drew's voice didn't break. Raoul nodded.

"He was set to sponsor one of the Grand Festivals several years ago, but the deal fell through," Raoul continued. "Several months later, Lance Grayson came to me and asked about the sponsorship. After I gave him Chris's name, he was arrested. The charges were eventually dropped, of course."

"Really?" Drew feigned surprise. "I had no idea."

Raoul's lips twitched into a strangely doleful smile.

"I do regret it, in a way," he said. "I don't like burning bridges, and I doubt Rogers will ever work with us again because of what happened."

"If you ask me, sir, he sounds flaky," Drew said lightly. Raoul began laughing, which helped put Drew at greater ease—enough to interject a question.

"I'm sorry if I sound too forward," he began tentatively, "but what is the reason you wanted to see me today?"

Raoul muted his laughter and took a moment to gather himself.

"Forgive me," he said. "Of course you must be wondering why I bring this up. You see, I told this story to demonstrate something very important to me and to the APC—and that's our relationship with the Napajian Pokémon League."

Drew inclined his head, confused but intrigued.

"Although I am saddened by the soured relations between us and Rogers, I would not have chosen to act any differently when Lance approached me," he continued. "The association and league have been partners for a very, very long time, practically since coordinating's conception as a class of trainers. They have helped us expand contests beyond Hoenn's borders, to Kanto, to Johto, and to Sinnoh. We hope they will continue to assist us as we further expand into other regions and, potentially, other nations."

"Other regions?" Drew inquired.

"The other _region_," Raoul corrected himself. He paused before adding, "Alder Ray is a good man. I've met him multiple times over the years, and he's proved to be a very likable person. Yet, he steers a rather—hm, how should I word this?—_disorganized_ ship. I've tried for years to get contests in Unova off the ground, and it's never happened. That Iris Ajagara, though... She shows a lot of potential." He paused again, studying Drew's expression. "Now you're smiling. Why's that?"

"Ah... nothing," Drew coughed. "I agree. Iris is... great. She's great. She and her husband are good friends of mine. My girlfriend has been in Unova since Monday, and I'm flying out there later this morning, too, so we can see her inauguration." He lifted his gaze toward Raoul. "I see now. You're looking to start the movement for contests in Unova back up, and you wanted to speak with me because you know Iris and I are friends. Well, I can't speak _for_ Iris, but I think she'd be open to the idea if you approached her on it."

"Good," Raoul chortled. "You're a little off the mark, though. I won't be starting the movement for contests in Unova."

"No?"

"No," Raoul repeated. "The reason I invited you... I want you to facilitate its implementation."

Drew stared. He opened his mouth once, then closed it. He wasn't sure if he had heard that right.

"Excuse me?" Drew finally found words.

"I would like for you spearhead a renewed movement for contests in Unova," Raoul clarified.

Drew's expression didn't change.

"Sir... I don't mean to sound rude, but what makes you think I have the qualifications to run something like that?" he asked. The proposition was unreal. It was so fanciful that it couldn't sink into his head and produce the reaction Mr. Contesta probably expected.

"Don't you have a degree in political science from the digital institute?" Raoul asked.

"From DIL?" Drew asked, meaning the Pokémon Trainer Digital Institute of Learning. "The... The semester only just ended. I haven't even received my certificate in the mail. In fact, I hadn't intended to do much, if anything, with the degree, except maybe use it on my résumé to get an internship here, eventually."

"Consider this your internship then," Raoul humored.

"I have no experience."

"I've never met someone who tried to talk me out of giving them a job."

Drew still appeared unconvinced; yet, Raoul remained undeterred.

"Andrew," he continued. "It's not just experience. It's connections, and you have them—not just with Iris, but with the other Champions, and with dozens of other coordinators. I could put someone with 20 years experience at the head, and they wouldn't get nearly as far as you."

"I still don't understand. This seems like a big risk on your end," Drew pointed out. "You might know I'm well-connected, but you don't know the kind of person I am or the kind of worker I am."

"You were recommended to me," Raoul stated simply.

"By who?"

"Never mind that," Raoul politely dismissed the inquiry. "Even so, this conversation has already told me a lot about who you are a person. And years of watching you perform has shown me that you work _very_ hard. I can in full faith and confidence know you would succeed in establishing contests in Unova—with help, of course."

Drew lowered his head, gazing at Raoul warily. Raoul knew, however, this was still his hesitation manifested.

Finally, Drew cut through his own doubt to ask, "So... what does this entail?"

Raoul smiled, glad Drew had finally opened himself up enough to entertain the idea.

"Well, as a newly studied political scientist, I'm sure you're aware that things work differently here in Napaj than they do in other places in the world," he said. "Democratic elections only exist on a local level. There are currently no formal systems in place for changes to be made at a regional or even a national level. This makes your job difficult—more difficult than it was when contests were established in the other regions, because it was different back then."

Drew had heard similar speeches before, about how things were once different. He didn't know it personally, because the 'difference' existed long before he was born. It wasn't until he got mixed up in the G-Men's business several years ago that his perspective was challenged, and now, being close with multiple Champions meant he was surprisingly familiar with some of its shortcomings.

"Right," he said, clicking his tongue. He was starting to understand why Raoul considered him a candidate to undertake this venture. He was treading new territory, and for that reason, it didn't matter whether he had experience or not. No one did.

"The APC can offer you some financial assistance to pay you and other employees and to get started, but the movement will need to generate money on its own to sustain itself and be successful," Raoul continued. "That's the tricky part. If it's true that you're confident in Iris as a supporter, then she might budget to help the movement financially, too, but even that likely won't be enough to cover the costs needed to build contest halls and staff them."

"And Iris isn't going to push a tax, because she's new and it would set a bad tone for her time as Champion," Drew picked up the conversation, both surprising and pleasing Raoul. "The way the G-Men and league are tied together, Champions don't want to do anything too extreme because then it causes organizations like Team Rocket to try to overthrow them. That's why it's different—and that's why it's harder now for new ideas or organizations to take root."

"Ah, so you _do_ understand," Raoul said.

Drew nodded before adding, "So, what's necessary is to propagate enough interest in contests not only so Unovans will actually participate in them but be willing to donate to the cause."

"Precisely."

"So how much is needed, exactly?" Drew asked.

"I thought you might ask that," Raoul began as he lifted a folder off his desk and handed it to Drew. "For twelve contest halls and one Grand Festival arena... well, see for yourself."

Drew craned an eyebrow as he accepted the folder and opened it. He skimmed the financial receipt before letting out a long breath.

"For _only_ twelve?" he asked.

"That's what our financial department estimates," Raoul answered. "Twelve is very small compared to our other regional branches, but it's sufficient, and it leaves room for growth."

"There's no way crowdfunding would even get _close_ to reaching this amount," Drew protested.

"I did say it was no easy task," Raoul reminded. "You'll have to get creative. Remember, the APC will help, as will the league."

"Even if the APC and the league covered 50 percent of the costs..." Drew shook his head. "Maybe we cut the number of contest halls in half and try to see if we can work out a deal with the Don George Battle Club, where they let contests take place in their facilities and receive a portion of the profit..."

"Now _that's_ thinking creatively!" Raoul glowed. "It seems you do know exactly what to do. You just needed a bit more confidence in yourself."

Drew blinked, realizing he had been speaking as though he'd accepted the position when he still wasn't entirely sold on the idea. ... Or was he? He closed the folder again and set it on his lap. He drummed his fingers against the surface, as Raoul watched him expectantly.

"I'll do this on one condition," Drew blurted suddenly, before he could think it through.

"That is?"

"I want to hire my own staff," Drew said. "I'll take a look at any and all recommendations you have, but I want to choose who I work with."

Drew expected him to reject the condition or try to compromise. In fact, maybe he had hoped Raoul would, because that would have made backing out easier. Yet, Raoul simply replied, "Done," and Drew was locked in.

"I'll compile a contact list of employees and former interns for you," Raoul continued, "and I'll have it emailed to you by the time you're in Unova tonight. Is the one the APC has on file current?"

"Ah... yes, it should be." Drew then quickly asked, "Sorry, you want me to begin right away?"

"Of course," Raoul said, nodding. "There is no better time to get this started than now, when Unova is already in transition. Iris will be fresh. Even if she is your friend, if you wait too long, she'll fall into a safe routine and will be less willing to break it."

"Then... I guess I have some extra packing to do before I head to Unova."

"Indeed." Raoul beamed as he rose to his feet. Drew followed suit. "I'll keep close contact."

Raoul led Drew back to the door and opened it for him. Drew turned back toward Raoul.

"Thank you, sir, for this opportunity," he said. His voice wavered with apprehension, but he was sincere.

"No, thank you for accepting," Raoul corrected, shaking Drew's hand once again. He paused, his eyes scanning Drew. "You know, now that I've had a good look at you up close, I realize you actually look strikingly similar to Chris Rogers. You're from La Rousse, too, aren't you? Any relation?"

Drew smiled.

"No. None." He then mentally added, 'Not anymore.'

_**May 6th, 2009. Early Morning. Pallet Town.**_

"Greninja, quick, use Water Shuriken!"

"Sudowoodo, dodge it!"

Greninja's speed far outmatched Sudowoodo's stiff movements, however, and Sudowoodo was knocked down by the precise aim of Greninja's attacks. One of the three disks of water hit Sudowoodo square in the chest, pushing him back, and the remaining two struck low and caused the Rock-type to fall on its back. Brock's eyebrows shot up, alarmed.

"Sudowoodo!" he called out in concern. Sudowoodo attempted to rise, but his limbs gave out, and he fell down once more, defeated.

"Sudowoodo is unable to battle," Ritchie declared after a brief delay, "so the battle goes to Ash and his Greninja!"

Ash and his Pikachu let out a cheer, and Greninja croaked happily as well. Brock heaved a sigh but smiled. He approached his Sudowoodo, pulling out his Pokéball.

"Thank you. You were great," Brock said, helping Sudowoodo to sit up before returning him. He then looked toward Ash, who had followed Brock's suit and returned his Pokémon. Ash extended his arm to Pikachu, letting him climb up it and settle on his shoulder.

"That was fantastic Ash," Brock commended, rising to his feet to meet his old friend. "You swept my team. I have no doubt you're ready to face the Elite Four."

"Thanks Brock," Ash replied, grinning, but he soon faltered. "But, to tell the truth, I think I still have some things to work on..."

Brock furrowed his eyebrows, and Ritchie asked, "Have you decided the order you want challenge them, yet?", as he approached.

"I think I've got it, but I'm not sure," Ash admitted. "Leaf gave me until Friday, but I think I'm gonna stick to my gut and tell her tonight when we see her at Iris's thing. It'll be a relief when this whole thing's over."

"Why? Nervous?" Brock asked.

"A little bit, but it's more that it's kind of weird between me and Misty and Leaf right now," Ash explained. "I hope it goes back to normal, win or lose. Probably should've stuck to competing outside Kanto and Johto..."

"Things are just tense right now up there in the Kanto Elite, that's all." The trio turned their heads when they heard Gary approaching. He had been watching the battle from the sidelines. "I can personally testify to that. It's delicate situation for all parties involved. Leaf's scrambling to make sure she doesn't waste her opportunity."

"'Waste her opportunity?'" Brock parroted inquisitively, to which Gary shrugged.

"League politics," he said vaguely. He then changed the subject. "Anyway, we've really got to get going if we want to make our flight. It'd be a shame if Brock came all the way from Pewter City to take us to the airport, only for us to miss our flight."

"Ah! Right," Ash agreed. "Okay, my suitcase is inside, so I'll just grab it."

Ash hurried off with Pikachu, and Brock soon followed them, mumbling something about needing to get his car keys off the table. Ash had bought a small bungalow in Pallet Town a couple years earlier, using the money he'd accumulated over the years from news stations and other talk shows paying him—and the other members of the famed fourteen—for agreeing to sit down for interviews. He only lived in it several months out of the year, however. Delia rented it out while Ash was traveling and sent the payments to him, so he could sustain himself on the road.

"Hey, looks like you're getting good at this refereeing business," Gary struck up a conversation with Ritchie in Ash and Brock's absence. Ritchie smiled at him weakly.

"There's a lot less pressure when it's a casual battle versus an official one," he said. "I think I'd get a lot more nervous if there were higher stakes involved."

"I'm sure that'll go away as you do it more," Gary said dismissively. "Just trust in your abilities, and you can't go wrong."

Ritchie craned an eyebrow.

"Sure be nice if I had as much confidence as you do," he chuckled. "You mean to say you're not the least bit nervous about defending your thesis on Friday?"

"More stressed than anything," Gary corrected. "The main reason I didn't head out to Unova earlier with Leaf and Misty was to spend more time touching up the presentation. Realistically, I'm just not going to work on it out there, so I wanted it done and ready to go before I left, so I'm not panicking Friday morning when I fly back."

"Makes sense."

Ash soon bounded out of his home with Brock in tow. Brock called for Gary and Ritchie to join them as he unlocked his car, getting ready for the drive.

_**May 6th, 2009. Afternoon. Opelucid City.**_

Drew glanced up when he heard the flight attendant's voice chime in on the PA, informing the passengers that they had safely arrived in Opelucid City, "Time's Dividing Line." He dismissed it, however, as he returned to the notebook on his lap, many of the pages of which he had filled with notes and ideas only understandable to him during the six-hour flight.

He waited several minutes for the other passengers to clear out before standing up, stretching, and retrieving his carry-on. He zipped it open and carefully laid his notebook and the folder Contesta had given him. He then fished his PokéCell out of his back pocket and turned it back on. His lips curled into a smile. Solidad had left him a voicemail.

He didn't bother to listen to it. He pressed send, calling her back. She picked up almost immediately.

"_Drew, please explain_," she said without greeting.

"So I'm guessing you didn't put Contesta up to it?"

"_No, I didn't put Contesta up to anything. In fact, I'd like to know what's going on. All you did was send me a text message asking if I had recommended you to Contesta for starting contests in Unova, and then you boarded a plane, so I couldn't hear more about it. Contesta wants to establish a branch for coordinating in Unova?_"

"Well, more specifically, he wants me to do it."

"_Drew, that's... that's incredible._"

"I know. It's a little surreal, to be honest." Drew lined up behind the final few people leaving the plane. "That's why I asked if you had anything to do with it."

"_Why would I?_"

"You have a history of doing things and talking to people behind my back. All for my benefit, but still."

Solidad let out an uncharacteristically nervous chuckle before saying, "_Well, no. I don't have those kind of connections, and I certainly don't have that kind of influence over Contesta. Did he say you were recommended to him?_"

"Yes. But he didn't tell me who," Drew answered. "I guess it's not that important anymore. As long as I don't let him down, that is."

"_You agreed to do it? Have you told May?_"

"Not yet," Drew admitted. "I'm getting off the plane now, and she's picking me up. I'm saving the news for later tonight, though, when I meet up with Zoey and the others. Contesta's letting me hire my own staff."

"_This is like a dream come true for you, isn't it?_"

"I told you it was surreal."

"_You'll do great._"

"I hope so."

"_You will,_" she insisted.

"Well, I am feeling better about it now that I've had some time to get my raw ideas out on paper," Drew conceded. "I'm starting right away, so I'm probably not going to be back in Hoenn for a while."

"_If there's any help you need, please don't hesitate to call me._"

"Oh, trust me, I'm sure we'll be in contact again soon." Drew stepped out the tunnel and into the terminal. "I already have things in mind for you."

"_I look forward to it._" Drew could hear the smile in her voice. "_Love you. Have a wonderful time in Unova._"

"Love you, too." The words came naturally, and there was no pause to ponder their significance. "I'll talk to you later."

He hung up and, adjusting his bag, continued onward through the terminal. The last time he was in Opelucid was seven years earlier, and his plane had landed under unconventional conditions. Still, he managed to navigate the airport fairly well, and he soon found the escalators leading downstairs. He was surprised—and delighted—to see that May was already waiting for him at the bottom, her face glowing. He had expected to meet her outside.

Drew quickened his pace to meet her once he was on the ground, and he pulled her into an unexpected kiss, dipping her ever so slightly as he did. A couple of women passing by giggled to one another, presuming the couple had been apart far longer than what was actually the case. May appeared dazed when Drew stepped back.

"It's only been two days," she said after coming to herself again. A move as passionate as that one was uncommon for Drew in a public space.

"I know," he said. "I'm just in a good mood."

Her face lit up with remembrance.

"Oh! That's right!" she exclaimed. "How did your meeting with Mr. Contesta go?"

"Good."

"Just good?"

"Really good."

"_Drew_," she whined, and he smirked.

"I'll tell you later," he said, brushing her plea off. "For now, we need to go to baggage claims."

He started walking without her, and May looked at him with surprise before hurrying to catch up.

"Hold up," she interjected. "Baggage claims? You checked bags?"

"Multiple, actually," Drew answered shortly.

"You told _me_ fit all my things into a carry-on," May protested. "How come _you_ get to check bags?"

"Don't get mad. Some of it's for you."

Confusion overtook May's expression, and she asked, "W-What? For me?"

"Yes, for you."

"Why?"

He stopped and turned to look at her once more, an oddly mischievous glint in his eye. "I think we're going to be here a little longer than either of us originally anticipated," he answered before moving on, leaving May not only more confused but also alarmed.

"Longer than either of us... ? Hey, wait up! What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded, running after him.

* * *

"Ugh! I have no patience for lateness," Barry grumbled, tapping his foot. "If family wasn't involved, I would be giving out a fine."

Barry sat between Kenny and Ritchie, who both exchanged exasperated smiles upon their friend's comment. Ash let out a short laugh, and Zoey rolled her eyes. The six, which included Misty, were waiting by a fountain a short distance away from the Opelucid City Gym. In fact, if Misty's memory served her right, it was the same square where they had battled the legendary Moltres seven years earlier. The fountain had been fixed since then. Nobody else seemed to remember the location's significance, and if they did, they weren't saying anything about it.

"You know, has anyone ever actually paid any of your fines?" Zoey asked.

"Paul once gave me $5 and told me to shut up."

"So why haven't you?" Zoey teased.

"Hey!" Barry leapt up. "Now I'm gonna have to fine you for that one!"

Before Zoey could respond, a call of "Yoo-hoo~" rang out, grabbing the group's attention. They turned their heads to see that Bianca was running toward them. Ash scrambled to stand, quickly moving away from the fountain and toward Misty, as though she were a type of shield. She gave him an odd look but shrugged it off. Pikachu also jumped off the fountain's edge and joined his trainer at his feet.

"Bianca!" Barry was thrilled as his cousin attacked him with a hug. There was a moment where he might have fallen back into the fountain, but he held his ground. "It's so good to see you again!"

Stephan and Luke followed closely behind. Burgundy hung back, sulking. They stayed behind Bianca, behind the dividing line between the two groups. Neither side knew each other very well, save a few exceptions. Their acquaintance existed via unusual means.

"Right? It's been forever! You hardly ever come out to Unova," Bianca pouted.

"Well, I'm here now!" Barry proudly declared.

"Yeah..." Bianca broke away from Barry and turned to smile at the others. "So! I suppose if you're all ready, we should get moving, right?"

"Actually," Ritchie politely interjected, "we're still waiting on-"

"-Us?" Drew finished wryly as he sauntered up to the group with May trailing behind him.

"Oh ho, look who it is!" Kenny chortled. "May said the reason you were flying out so late was because you had a meeting with Mr. Contesta. So, what did the big man have to say?"

"He won't tell me," May piped up. "It's apparently a _secret_."

"It's not a secret, May," Drew corrected, shaking his head. "I just don't want to explain it more times than I have to, so I'm waiting until we're with everyone. You'll all know what happened by the end of the night, I promise."

"Practical to a fault, as always," Zoey commented dryly.

"Like you can't say the same about yourself?" Drew threw back.

"Touché."

It was around this time May realized Misty was standing among them, and she brightened considerably with this revelation.

"Oh! Misty, it's a surprise to see you here," she said cheerfully. "I thought you would've been in the gym with Iris and the others."

Misty appeared briefly surprised her presence had been acknowledged, but she explained, "It was either/or. I could have stayed with Leaf and been on stage for the inauguration, but I would have felt out of place. I would have been the only Elite Four member from outside Unova present. Besides, Leaf has Gary and Lance to keep her company, not to mention Paul and Dawn and whole lot of other people who actually should be there."

"I see..." May trailed off.

Figuring he was now safe from being drenched in any fountain accidents, Ash carefully emerged from behind Misty, and Stephan grinned.

"Well, no sense in talkin' 'bout secrets, so how about we talk about the fact that we may very well have the next Indigo Champion standing right here in front of us?" he said heartily. "Iris Ajagara today, Ash Ketchum tomorrow."

"Heh, so you watched that match?" Ash asked sheepishly.

"Of course we did!" Luke jumped into the conversation. "It was an amazing battle! I can't wait to see you take on the Elite Four." He paused before setting his sight on Misty. "So, I guess that means he might be battling you at some point, huh?"

Misty smiled weakly, answering, "Yeah..."

Ash cast her a concerned look. This was exactly what he had meant earlier that morning when he said things between him and Misty were weird. She had seemed excited at the prospect of battling him prior to the league match, but afterward, she, along with Leaf, had grown a little more distant. Gary was insistent it would pass, and Ash wanted to believe him. Being Leaf's boyfriend, Gary knew a lot more about the inner dynamic of the Indigo Elite than most.

Ash decided to refocus the subject: "So, Luke," he began, "how's work at PokéStar Studios? And Stephan, what about you and the Don George Battle Club?"

Drew perked up at the mention of the club. May noticed, and she ducked her head, watching him shyly. Her anticipation for whatever he had to say that evening was growing.

"Oh, it's good," Luke answered. "I'm writing the script for another film now, this one about a Beeheyem who changes the memories of a trainer's friends, so they don't remember him anymore. It's supposed to speak to the impact one person can have on many."

"As for me," Stephan added, "I've been havin' a blast. Don George—er, at least the one I work with—is a really good guy, and I've learned a lot from him."

"That's awesome," Ash commended, glad his old Unovan friends were getting along well. He then tilted his head to look behind Stephan and Luke, at Burgundy. "Hey, Burgundy," he called out to her. "What've you been up to lately?"

She mumbled a few words in response, and the only thing Ash could make out was something about teaching and the PCA, or the Pokémon Connoisseur Association.

"Don't mind her," Stephan dismissed. "She's just moody 'cause Georgia isn't here."

"Oh, uh... Okay..." Ash nodded, trying to understand.

Burgundy suddenly cleared her throat and spoke again, this time more clearly: "Well, now that your posse has arrived, I suggest we move _rapidement_ if we want a decent view."

"Right!" Ash turned on his heel. "Okay, so I'm pretty sure the Opelucid City Gym is this way..."

"How about you let _me_ lead the way since you have a history of being directionally challenged?" Misty stepped up, wearing a smirk. Ash was so pleasantly surprised by her tease that he didn't have it in him to protest. Instead, he grinned and moved his arm out in mock courtesy.

"After you, then," he said. Pikachu snickered before jumping onto Ash's shoulder.

Not long after the group set off, Drew caught up to Ash and asked in a low voice, "Hey, what's the name of the guy who works at the Don George Battle Club?"

"Hm?" Ash blinked. "Oh, that's... Stephen? Stephan? Stephan Dunstan. We're old friends and rivals. Maybe you don't remember, but he's one of the people who helped us out way back when. Why are you asking?"

Drew fell back.

"No reason," he said.

* * *

"_We are now just an hour away from the inauguration of Iris Ajagara, and the excitement is building out here in front of the Opelucid City Gym._ _Alder Ray has been a beloved leader of Unova for years, and many are curious to see a new face in the Unova Elite, and that's why they've been gathering here since early this morning, waiting in this beautiful weather. There couldn't have possibly been a better day for an event like this, and Iris can only hope the good weather portends a good tenure._"

Dozens of gazes focused on the bright-eyed reporter on the screen. Most of the Unova Elite—from the gym leaders to the Elite Four members themselves—were gathered in the lobby of the Opelucid City Gym, watching the inauguration's pre-coverage on the Unovan Broadcast News station. The Champions, current and former, were also present, with the exception of Iris, Alder, and Paul. They were elsewhere in the building.

"_Thank you for the update, Julia_." The cameraview changed so the screen was split between the female reporter outside the gym and a well-dressed man with slick hair and a pearly smile back in the studio. It then shifted entirely to the man when he spoke again: "_Is Unova ready for a new Champion? After more than four decades with Alder Ray in the Unova Championship seat, some critics believe Iris has a tough road ahead winning over the Unovan people. Others remain optimistic she will bring the fresh ideas the Unova region needs. For thoughts, we turn to our commentators, Eileen Anderson and Peter Powell. Eileen, you can go first._"

"_Thank you, Edmund_," Eileen said. "_Well I, for one, am one of the optimistic people. I think Iris Ajagara is exactly what Unova needs now. She's young, she's beautiful, she's independent—she kept her maiden name when she married former Striaton City Gym Leader Cilan Griffith—and she will be the first woman of color in the Championship seat in Napaj. On paper, she's different from Alder in every possible way, and we will probably see that reflected in her leadership positively, and once the Unovan people see that, they will accept her with open arms_."

"_Eileen_," Peter cut in with a touch of condescension, "_you can't deny, though, that Iris has her work cut out for her. You mentioned a lot of unique qualities about Iris that might make her good for Unova, but you failed to bring up the unique—rather, the questionable—circumstances surrounding her nomination. The traditional standard for crowning new Champions is winning the league and then defeating the Elite Four and Champion, but we've seen in the past ten years or so that it's become more common for Champions to be handpicked from the existing Elite Four or crowned after a less-official battle, most recently with Leaf Greene and Paul Rebolledo. However, we've __**never**__ seen a new Champion be plucked out of the region's gym leaders, and this is causing people to question not only Alder's choice but Iris's qualifications._"

"Alder has doomed her to fail," Lance said under his breath, only loud enough for those sitting near him to hear. Steven's eyes flicked over toward Lance, while Cynthia drew in a silent, sharp breath. Emily looked curiously at her mother, sensing she was agitated. Gary cast Leaf a quick glance, but she remained stone-faced. Wallace and Winona exchanged uneasy glances.

"You don't know that," Cynthia said calmly, though firmly.

"She has the deck stacked against her," Lance reminded.

"I suppose I, too, am on of the optimistic ones, then." Cynthia rose to her feet, deciding to remove herself from the situation before she grew too upset. Emily appeared alarmed when her mother began to leave.

"Mom?" she inquired before scrambling to follow her. Steven watched them carefully but didn't move. It would have done little good for the Stone family to make a scene. Although he and Lance were on far better terms, some contention still lingered between his wife and the former Indigo Champion, even after they had left their seats.

Cynthia found an appropriate diversion as Paul re-entered the room with Dawn at his side. She approached the couple.

"How goes it with security?" she asked.

"Fine," Paul answered shortly. He then added, "I hope it's enough. Iris was resistant to the idea of bringing a Sinnoan G-Men unit here, but Leaf talked her into it."

"I'm sure that's just a product of her finding her footing," Cynthia replied. "Alder has refused to establish a G-Men branch in Unova for so long, even after the incident with Team Rocket, that Iris doesn't want to disrespect his legacy." Cynthia paused and looked down at her daughter, who was clinging to her leg and half-hiding behind her. "Emily, don't be shy. You've met Paul and Dawn before."

Dawn smiled warmly and bent down to meet the child at her level.

"Hello, Emily," she greeted.

Emily's lips still quivered into a smile as she waved. She then looked up at Paul, who towered over her. His expression was blank, unsure of how he should react. Emily promptly hid her face into her mother's dress. Cynthia shook her head, placing her hand on her daughter's back.

"I'm sure we'll catch up later," she said amicably before leading her child away with her. Dawn placed her hand on the ground and pushed herself up, standing once again.

"I guess she still hasn't warmed up to you, huh..." she said.

Paul shrugged in response.

"You're better with children than I am," he said, moving forward.

"Cedar likes you," Dawn reminded, following him.

"Cedar is an exception."

Dawn smiled tiredly and reached for his hand. Yet, when she gained a tenuous grasp on his fingers, he hesitated before balling his hand and pulling away.

"Not here," he said simply.

Dawn pressed her lips into a hard line, but nodded.

"Right..."

* * *

"You look beautiful, Ms. Ajagara," Elesa said as she stepped back, holding a pen of liquid eyeliner delicately between her thumb and index finger.

Iris shyly stole a glance into the mirror to see Elesa's completed work. Iris rarely went through extensive effort with her own make-up, and her hair was styled half up, which was typical for her, though it looked quite different when done by a model and not by her own hands. It caused a disconnection between the way she looked and the way she felt—meaning, she looked a lot better than she felt.

"Thank you, Elesa," Iris said, standing up. "Really."

Elesa nodded and smiled before saying, "Good luck," and leaving to join the other elite trainers in the next room. Iris smoothed over a wrinkle in her dress, which extended just past her calves, and readjusted the rounded neckline, trying to make herself comfortable.

"Well, Iris, look at you!" Iris's head snapped up when she heard the familiar jubilance that was Alder. He and Drayden were approaching. "You look fantastic—better than I've looked any day in my life, that's for sure."

She couldn't help but smile and thank him, too. She then cast a wary look toward Drayden.

"How much time is left?" she asked.

"Your presence is expected soon," Drayden answered shortly. "How are you doing?"

"Me? Oh, I'm—I'm doing great!" Iris forced a grin. "I've never felt better. I feel like I could take on the world. Eat a whole Wailord. Er... I mean..." She stumbled, realizing that was not the right idiom.

Alder exchanged an amused glance with Drayden. Even the normally stoic Drayden appeared somewhat humored by her behavior.

"You're confident?" Drayden offered.

"Confident? Oh yes!" Iris nodded quickly. "My name and picture are next to confidence in the dictionary."

Alder laughed aloud and said, "Well, good to know!" He deadpanned before adding, "Iris... I know I'm leaving Unova in good hands. I hope you know that, too. But you should also know that I will always be here as your adviser and mentor, as will Drayden. At least, until they put me six feet under."

Iris let out a strained chuckle at the morbid humor.

"I do know that," she said. She stopped and tilted her head slightly, looking at something—or someone—beyond Drayden and Alder. The two men glanced behind them to see that Cilan was standing nearby, leaning against the wall. Alder cocked a suggestive eyebrow and grinned goofily at Drayden, who sighed and shook his head in response.

"We'll wait for you," Drayden told Iris, regaining her attention. "Please do not be long. The ceremony begins soon."

Iris nodded as the two men turned to leave. Cilan waited until he and Iris were alone before he spoke.

"A dictionary, hm?" he teased lightly, approaching her in playful stride.

Iris smiled crookedly before admitting, "I threw up this morning."

Cilan emitted a noise somewhere between a laugh and a distressed sigh.

"It's okay to be nervous," he assured her. "Maybe not to the point that you make yourself sick, but no one expects you to be a fiery ball of confidence all the time. You would be too much like Ash if that were the case, and then I would worry about you a lot more than I already do."

Iris craned an eyebrow and shifted her weight to her left hip.

"You don't have any reason to be worried," she challenged.

Cilan turned his head slightly when he noticed the door crack open. One of Paul's G-Men agents slid inside, a signal that they needed to get moving. Cilan then slowly moved his gaze back toward Iris.

"Not today, I don't." He grasped her hand and lifted it to kiss her fingers. His lips touched the cool surface of her wedding ring, the symbol that bound them together.

* * *

"Turn that trash off." Drayden's voice boomed when he entered the room with the other gym leaders, Elite Four members, and Champions. "Iris is going to be here in a few minutes, and we don't need that poison seeping into her head right before her inauguration."

Skyla scrambled to retrieve the remote and turn off the television. Georgia watched as the former Opelucid City Gym Leader and soon-to-be former Unova Champion passed by. She unfolded her arms and let out an irritated sigh before moving further into the crowd of elite trainers.

Drayden and Alder soon met with the other Champions, former included.

"How is she?" Leaf asked.

"She claims to be confident, but she's terrified," Drayden answered.

"I suppose nothing less should be expected," Wallace humored.

"_Where_ is she?" Lance asked.

"We left her to have a private moment with Cilan," Alder replied. "A Champion's significant other is their greatest confidant and influence. Unity between them is vital."

"As it should be," Wallace said, smiling. Winona rolled her eyes but smiled, too, when she felt his eyes fall upon her. Gary waggled his eyebrows at Leaf, and she mouthed the words "Don't let that go to your head" in response. Dawn cast a curious glance toward Paul, but his head didn't turn.

Cynthia watched Alder carefully, however, feeling her heart sink. Perhaps the others hadn't noticed, but there was a tick of longing in his voice. Alder's wife had died in her early 50s more than a decade earlier. He was speaking from experience.

Paul's eyes connected with one of his G-Men agents as he entered the room. The agent nodded to him, and Paul straightened.

"Here she comes," he said. As soon as the words left his mouth, the doors opened, and Iris entered with Cilan at her side. Her arrival called for all those present to rise to her feet, and they did so before breaking into an applause. Iris was clearly taken aback by this welcome, especially since it came from so many people whom she personally admired—from Lenora, to Clay, to Shauntal, to Cynthia, to her own brothers-in-law, Cress and Chili... She quickly became overwhelmed.

"Thank you," she said breathlessly. The words were lost in the noise, so she repeated them again, and then again as the applause started to die down.

"Thank you," Iris began anew once she had silence. "Really, thank you so much for your support and for being here today. I can't say in words how much it means to me. I'm not really a person good with words—that would be my husband, the S-Class Connoisseur." Her comment elicited some laughter among the crowd; even Cilan chuckled. Feeling more comfortable, Iris continued, "But I hope that I can show my appreciation to you through serving you and serving Unova in the years to come. Thank you again."

The applause started again, and Cilan affectionately touched her lower arm, giving a nod of approval. Iris smiled, relieved. He had told her last night something like this might happen, and she had just now parroted, albeit much less eloquently, some of the suggestions he gave for what she could say in response. Yet, she was genuine, and that was all that mattered.

Leaf let out a long breath, which Gary noticed.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

"No," she answered. "I'm relieved, actually. This just... This just proves that Lance is wrong. That abashed charm and wit will have people at her feet in no time."

She sounded as though she were trying to reassure herself. While she and Lance disagreed on some matters, she knew his perspective, though often pessimistic, was not to be dismissed. Gary frowned and looked back toward Iris.

"Yeah," he agreed, even if he wasn't entirely sure himself.

When the accolades ended and side conversations resumed, Chili and Cress made their way through the crowd toward their brother and sister-in-law.

"Good show, Iris!" Chili swept her into a hug, catching her by surprise. "Can't wait to hear the real speech. You're gonna knock 'em dead."

Iris laughed nervously as Chili let her back down to the ground. She always became strangely self-aware of her own height every time she was surrounded by the three Griffith brothers. She was fine when it was just Cilan, but coupled with Cress and Chili, she felt as though she were wandering in a forest.

"The speech is what I'm most scared about, actually," she admitted.

"I'm sure you'll do fine," Cress reassured her.

"Yeah, didn't Cilan and Wallace write it? Blame them if it doesn't go the way you hope," Chili offered. "I mean, Wallace is probably gonna be on his way out in the next couple of years or so anyway, and who cares about Cilan's reputation? He might as well be Mr. Ajagara."

"Love you too, Chili," Cilan said dryly.

Leaf and Paul also made their way over, with Dawn and Gary not far behind.

"They're starting to line people up to be seated. Gym leaders are over there," Paul said, flicking his head to give direction.

"Right." Cress nodded. "Thank you, sir."

As they left, Paul returned his attention to Iris.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"As ready as I'll ever be, I guess," Iris answered. "I'm glad you guys are here. I definitely wouldn't have agreed to do this if I didn't know you two were in it, too."

"I think that's mutual," Paul grunted, and Leaf nodded, agreeing.

"As cliché as it sounds, this is the literal dream team for the Championship," Gary spoke up. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I actually have hope for Napaj's future with you three at the helm."

"You better, because your relationship status depends on it," Leaf said flippantly.

"Then do a good job, because I actually like you a little bit," Gary threw back.

As Leaf and Gary began a banter match, Dawn noticed that Cilan was wearing a distant, troubled expression. She frowned, sympathetic.

"Don't worry," she said. "Everything will be fine, I promise. I was scared, too."

Cilan held his tongue, refusing to point out that the situations between Paul's and Iris's inauguration were vastly different. Cynthia had ensured an air of legitimacy was cast over Paul's ascension; Iris lacked the same benefit, and while she had the support of the Unova Elite, he wasn't sure he could say the same of Unova's citizenry. It certainly didn't help that Iris was a break in a forty-year reign. Cynthia's tenure was a quarter of that time.

Cilan swallowed his apprehension and smiled.

"Knock on wood," he said.

* * *

Every time a member of the Unova Elite stepped onto the stage outside the Opelucid City Gym, wild cheers would break out among the crowd. Some ignored the noise while other gave a friendly wave of acknowledgement as they were seated. Trip found it interesting to note which gym leaders or Elite Four members were the most popular based on the applause they received. Elesa, Burgh, and Roxie were definitely some of the crowd's favorites.

The atmosphere reached a fever pitch as former Champions—Lance, Cynthia, and Steven—appeared. Their arrival meant the current Champions, and Iris, were not far behind. Trip lifted his camera toward the Stone family. Cynthia and Steven both protectively stood with Emily, who, since her birth, had accumulated some fame by virtue of her parentage. The two were known for carefully managing their daughter's public appearances and interactions with the media, so it was a surprise they had brought her to Unova.

He then turned the lens to Lance. His expression was stoic as he followed Cynthia and Steven to their assigned seating.

When Wallace and Winona appeared next in line, Trip knew he needed to prepare to move backstage for the one photo he really wanted to capture. While it was an honor being the sole photographer for the Unova League, it meant he was creatively strained to get the stock he needed versus what he wanted. He waited for Paul, Dawn, Leaf, Gary, and Cilan's arrival to grab a few shots before quickly turning off his camera and switching lenses. For archiving purposes, he would have to pull photos of Alder's entrance from a news wire service, which, while a sacrifice, would be worth the exchange.

Trip quickly left his station and made a beeline for one of the underground entrances into the gym. He frowned when he realized it was unguarded. He knew security was stretched, but he had hoped it would be better than this.

He descended the stairs into a carpeted hallway and was surprised to see there was a man inside. Initially, he thought he might be one of Paul's G-Men agents, but he knew that wasn't possible. He was out of uniform.

"Excuse me?" Trip called out to the man. The man froze, and Trip continued, "Who are you?"

The man quickly turned to face him.

"I-I am, I am..." The man looked behind him nervously, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"This area is for authorized personnel, only," Trip said firmly. "Gym leaders, Elite Four members, Champions, G-Men agents, and other employees of the league—and you are none of the above."

"Right, sorry... I was just..." The man didn't finish. He hurried past Trip, back outside. Trip whipped his head to watch him go, his expression a mix of annoyance and alarm. He returned to the door and locked it, lest the man try to re-enter. He mentally noted he would need to find a G-Men agent and relay the incident to them—as soon as he got what he came to get.

He readjusted the camera strap around his neck and continued onward, up more stairs and into the main building. He arrived just in time.

Iris was alone, wringing her hands together nervously as she looked out the window at the massive crowd of people waiting to see her. The sunlight fell through the translucent curtains and highlighted the traces of apprehension in her expression, the neutral curve of her lip.

Her reverie broke with the click of camera. She snapped her head toward Trip with wide eyes, but she relaxed again when she realized it was him.

"I didn't see you there," she said.

"I have a special talent for going unnoticed."

"Don't say that." She glowered at him. When he didn't respond, Iris looked out the window again, waiting for the signal that it was her time to go outside. Alder was still moving down the way, so she had a little time left.

Trip, meanwhile, switched the setting on his camera to view the photos he had taken. The one with Iris was the first to appear, and he was satisfied with the result. His job was to produce iconic images, images that would both humanize Iris and build her reputation as a leader. A solemn, anxious expression prior to her inauguration certainly had the human element.

He suddenly remembered something and, looking up, asked, "There's been no one suspicious here, has there?"

Iris moved her gaze back toward his.

"No, why?"

"No reason," Trip answered. "Just looking out for you. That's all."

"You don't need to. I'm fine." She turned her head toward the window a third time and sighed. "What do you think they're saying? All those people?"

"The ones who are here are the ones who support you. The ones who stayed home... probably what you would expect." Trip shrugged. He didn't sugarcoat it. Still, he added, "They don't matter, though. They're just now figuring out what we've known for a while, thanks to Silver."

Iris was surprised by the mention of Silver. He, along with the issue of the G-Men, was a topic largely treated with silence among the group. It had been seven years since they had last seen him, and he had left mixed opinions. Yet, his verbal tirades against the G-Men had since turned into a kind of self-fulfilling prophecy, and they were all aware of it at varying degrees.

She, along with Leaf and Paul, was there to reverse it.

"I have to go," Trip changed the subject. "Good luck, though."

"Thanks..." Iris watched as he brushed past her.

Trip left in a hurry, wondering where he would be able to find an available G-Men agent. There were so few compared to the larger population, and it would be a pain to locate one without having to make a scene. There were certainly a few on stage, but it would incite public suspicion if he pulled one of them aside. He didn't want to do that, especially if his doubts were unfounded.

Once he was back outside, Trip looked to the stage and noticed that Alder was finally seated. Iris would be on stage in perhaps a minute or so. Then, as luck would have it, Trip spotted a female agent standing near one of the areas roped off to the general crowd. He quickly approached her.

"Hey," he started, and she turned her head. "My name's Trip McGonnigal, and I'm the league photographer here." He flashed the event ID hanging from the lanyard around his neck as proof. "I wanted to let you know that while I was taking the underground entrance into the gym, I ran into someone who was unauthorized in the hallway. They were probably just a fan or petty thief, but I thought you ought to know."

"Do you have a physical description?" she asked.

"Mm... Male, early- to mid-20s, red hair," Trip answered. "They were wearing black pants and a gray jacket. They also had some kind of hat... black with a large, white cross-stitch at the front."

"A jacket in this weather?" She craned an eyebrow.

"Yeah..." Trip supposed it was a little strange, now that he thought about it.

"Are they still there?" she asked.

"No." Trip shook his head. "I think I scared him off, and I locked the door behind me, so he couldn't get back in unless he wanted to make a scene and break in."

"All right. Thank you for letting me know." She promptly turned on her heel and disappeared into the crowd.

* * *

Iris initially squinted when the full light of the sun greeted her as she stepped outside, and her head went fuzzy with the storm of screams and cheers that came with her appearance. She blinked the spots out of her eyes to see that the elite company on stage had risen again to hail her arrival. She lifted her gaze further to take in the full mass of the audience that had come to see her.

For a moment, she swore she saw the classic grin of Ash Ketchum in the sea of people. Iris smiled crookedly and waved before beginning to move down the aisle.

Alder and Cilan met her at the bottom, in front of the podium. Alder gave her a hearty pat on the back while Cilan carefully, though firmly, took her hand. Her husband's touch and encouraging smile helped Iris recenter herself, and she breathed out the tension in her chest. Cilan guided her to their seats, which was in the front row, across the aisle from Alder. She was to the right of the podium, while Alder was to the left. Yet, Alder didn't return to his seat. He instead stepped up to the multiple microphones, being the first to speak.

"What a grand day it is!" he began with his usual jocund attitude and smile, to the cheers of the crowd. "It has been an honor and privilege to be your leader for so many years—and while some may be sad to see me go—remember that the future is bright for Unova and for Napaj." He paused, allowing the next round of audience plaudits to run its course. He then turned an eye toward Iris in her seat.

"Iris has proved herself to be a woman of heart, of character, and of strength. I know she will—in the company of our other great modern leaders, Leaf Greene; Paul Rebolledo; and Wallace Reyes—raise the standard of our nation with progressivism while restoring and maintaining the traditions that made us great."

Cilan's grip on his wife's hand tightened. Iris was tempted to glance back at Leaf and Paul to see their reactions, but she stopped herself.

"When I look at Iris Ajagara, I don't see the shortcomings that so many seem stuck on—I see opportunity. I see change, for the better," Alder continued. "She carries a light in her that many do not have. She understands the souls of people and Pokemon better than perhaps anyone I've met in my 65 years on this earth. I'm excited to see what future she will shape for Unova, and I hope you are, too. So, while I am grateful for the years I've spent in the service of Unova, it is with hope and gladness that I pass the honor and duties of the Championship seat on to Iris. Thank you."

Alder stepped away from the podium, and that was Iris's cue to rise. Cilan stood with her.

"That was short," Iris said shakily under her breath to Cilan. She was barely audible through the cheers of the crowd.

"It didn't need to be long," he replied. "_You_ are the star of today, after all."

She and Cilan met Drayden and Alder in front of the podium, and they were joined by the three other current Champions in a line behind them.

"Are you ready to take the Oath of Champions, Ms. Ajagara?" Drayden asked.

Iris exhaled slowly.

"I am," she said, nodding. She didn't let her voice waver.

"Then please raise your right hand."

Iris followed his instructions. The audience had practically fallen silent by then.

"I, Iris Ajagara, do solemnly affirm," Drayden started.

"I, Iris Ajagara, do solemnly affirm," Iris repeated.

Nearby, Trip lifted his lens to capture the age-old ceremony. The Oath of Champions was used in all of the Napajian regions, though certain words were adapted to fit each specific division. This would be the third time it had been spoken in the past two years; first by Leaf, then by Paul, and now Iris.

"-that I will carry out the responsibilities of the Unova Champion faithfully-"

"-that I will carry out the responsibilities of the Unova Champion faithfully-"

Iris grew more confident with every word. Cilan tilted his head and smiled at her, feeling himself swell with pride.

"-and will strive to preserve, protect, and promote-"

"-and will strive to preserve, protect, and promote-"

Paul's gaze suddenly flicked elsewhere, and he grew tense. Leaf noticed the change, and she tried to discreetly find what had his attention.

"-the welfare of the people and Pokémon of Unova-"

"-the welfare of the people and Pokémon of Unova-"

Leaf soon saw it. His source of alarm was one of his own G-Men agents, who was moving quickly through the crowd near the front of the stage—to whom or what, they didn't know.

"-and the Napajian nation."

"-and the Napajian nation," Iris finished.

"Congratulations, Madam Champion." Drayden extended his arm to shake her hand, the title successfully bestowed upon her. Iris beamed as she accepted the gesture before turning to Cilan and letting him kiss her cheek.

Yet, the celebratory roars of the crowd were abruptly punctured by the sound of a gunshot in the air. Iris barely had time to whip her head around to see that a G-Men agent had tackled a man to the ground before Paul grabbed her upper arm and pulled her with him. Leaf also laid a protective hand on the small of Iris's back, pushing her along, back toward inside the gym.

"Come on, Iris," Paul growled as chaos on the stage and in the crowd ensued. "Let's go."

* * *

"_What happened_?" Lance was the first to angrily break the question as the elite ushered themselves back inside in a panic. The agent to whom he directed the question recoiled back. Lance was still a respected figure among the G-Men, even if he was no longer officially involved as its leader.

"There was a gunshot, sir," the agent replied. The group of elite trainers began to circle around him, Lance, and the other leaders as they spoke. Iris was still with Leaf and Paul, though Cilan had caught up with them. Iris appeared quite shaken, while Leaf looked nearly as angry as her predecessor. Paul and Cilan were equally upset.

"Obviously there was a gunshot." Paul moved into the conversation, and Cilan replaced his company. "Who was that person Angela tackled? Why?"

"Sir—" The agent in question, Angela Gray, appeared. "—I received a tip from the league photographer that a person of his description was found in the underground entrance to gym. When I saw him, he was pulling a firearm out of his pocket and approaching the stage, and it fired accidentally in the air when I stopped him. He is now in custody."

"You mean to say _Trip_ is the one who sounded the alarm, and not one of you?" Paul asked, irate.

"Gary, Dawn—" Leaf began in a low voice, turning toward them. "Go find Trip, please." The two nodded and promptly left. Decidedly taking control of the situation, Leaf then asked, "Wallace, how soon can we release a statement to the media?"

"It depends on what you're looking to say," he replied.

"Just the basics—that Iris is fine, no one is hurt, and that more information will be released when we have it."

"Fifteen minutes," Wallace decided.

"Good. When you're finished, please join Cilan to help him revise Iris's speech," Leaf said.

"M-My speech?" Iris finally spoke up.

"You still want her to deliver it? After that?" Cilan asked disapprovingly.

"Yes," Leaf answered firmly, "but not in the way you think. I'd like for it to be recorded within the next couple of hours, when Iris has recollected herself and we know more about the incident, and then released to all the major media stations and posted online."

Cilan still looked unsure, but he didn't have the chance to further his protest as Dawn and Gary soon returned with Trip.

"Is this about what I think it is?" Trip asked. "I didn't realize he had a gun on him. I would've acted a lot differently had I known that."

"Never mind that right now," Leaf dismissed. "Do you think you could set up a makeshift studio and film Iris delivering her speech?"

Trip appeared estranged.

"No. I'm a _photo_grapher, not a _video_grapher," he said. "I suppose I could record her speaking, but it probably wouldn't be of the quality you're expecting."

"I know someone who could film Iris." Georgia cut into the conversation and through the crowd of gym leaders that had gathered. Her hand was on her hip as she entered the circle.

"Who are you?" Leaf asked. Her voice was sharp, testy.

"Georgia Hamilton," she answered shortly. "I'm the Icirrus City Gym Leader. I know for a fact that Luke Thompson, a director and videographer for PokéStar Studios, is in the audience, and there is a 95 percent chance he has some nice video equipment on him. If not, he can get it quickly."

"Do you have his number?"

"I have my best friend's number, and she was going with him and some other people today," Georgia said.

"That'll do. Please follow me." Before Leaf turned to leave with Georgia, she took one last look at Iris. "Go find somewhere to breathe for now. I need you ready and back in the game in two hours, at most."

* * *

"The suspect safely arrived at the Opelucid City Police Station," Agent Gray informed Paul once they were alone, as they walked through the empty hallway in which Trip originally found the gunman. "Agent Murray has already tried interviewing him, but he remains silent."

"We'll see how silent he is once Lance and I get through him," Paul grunted. "Tell Cole not to worry about it for now."

Agent Gray's lips tightened.

"The local Officer Jenny found something during a strip search," she began. "On the inside of his jacket... apparently, there was the crest of Team Plasma embroidered."

"The crest of _what_?"

"Team Plasma," Agent Gray repeated. "It's a crime ring in Unova."

"Do you know anything more about them?" Paul asked.

"No, sir."

"Right..." Paul sighed and rubbed his temple. "Please go find Cilan and bring him here."

"Champion Leaf asked that he work on Iris's speech," Agent Gray reminded.

"I know what Leaf said," Paul said shortly. "Cilan is Iris's husband, and he is not going to be in the state of mind to do speechwriting. Wallace will take care of that once he's finished the statement. Go get him."

"Yes, sir."

As she left, Paul turned and continued up the hallway until he reached the door leading outside. He noticed it was locked and figured it was Trip's doing. It was eerie to think about, but if Trip had not decided to go backstage, the gunman would have caught Iris defenseless. Paul sighed and leaned his head against the door, his hand still on the handle.

"I'm probably going to ask to have that sealed." Cilan's voice came several minutes later. Paul hadn't moved, and he glanced behind him.

"I wouldn't blame you," he said. "We can have it done today, if you would like. I'll also have the G-Men agents here on guard tonight, so you and Iris can sleep easy."

"Thank you." Cilan added, "I don't know if either Iris or I will sleep, though."

"You should ask Drew if he still has his Butterfree Sleeping Powder prescription." Paul dropped his hand and turned to face Cilan head-on. "How are you doing right now?"

"I am—" Cilan stopped short and redirected the course of his reply. "—I don't know what you want me to say. Someone tried to assassinate my wife."

Paul let out a long breath.

"Leaf and I were worried something like this would happen," he grumbled. "Lance apparently was, too, and Cynthia became upset with him for it. I don't know about Steven or Wallace, but..."

"Have you spoken with Alder, yet?" Cilan asked.

"No, have you?"

"Presently, I don't think I would be able to maintain my composure if we spoke," Cilan confessed with an unusually bitter edge in his voice. "It was nice that he addressed the concerns surrounding Iris's competence in his opening speech today, but that clearly wasn't enough. And now she's Champion... I don't know what we'll do. This will follow her for life. She will always be the gym leader who 'unfairly' jumped to Champion."

"We'll figure it out," Paul said. "Iris will have to build her reputation and live up to the image Alder painted of her today, which was what she was going to have to do anyway. Maybe we can't erase Alder's botched nomination, but we can let what she'll accomplish cover it up."

"I suppose." Cilan paused. "Was there a reason you wanted to see me?"

"To check in, mainly," Paul said. "But to also ask you a question: Do you know anything about Team Plasma?"

Cilan blinked.

"I know some," he answered. "Why do you ask?"

"The gunman belonged to Team Plasma, and I'm looking at possible motivations, other than her nomination," Paul said. "I don't mean to sound crass, but Iris is a young, dark-skinned woman. In the eyes of some people, those are three strikes against her."

"I realize that." Cilan nodded tacitly. "I'm not sure if that's why, but Team Plasma being behind it does make some sense."

"How so?"

"It's _strongly_ anti-league," Cilan explained. "It vehemently opposes the institution of Pokémon training and encourages the liberation of Pokémon from trainers. Since Iris is now the figurehead for the Unova League, it would make sense if Team Plasma wanted her dead." The final words were unpalatable on Cilan's tongue, and hearing them from his own mouth sent a chill through his spine.

"Do you know if there's any written matter on them?" Paul asked.

"On Team Plasma? Maybe." Cilan then shook his head. "... You know there's no large, centralized government unit in Unova. It's Iris, and that's it. If you're looking for a database of information on Team Plasma, well, it doesn't exist."

"Then I suppose you know what the next step is."

Cilan frowned.

"Iris isn't going to be easily swayed into establishing a branch of the G-Men here. She can be very... stubborn," he said. "I love her, but she is not always realistic."

"Which is why it's good she married you," Paul said. "You're going to have to convince her. I know she admires Alder and doesn't want to upset him, but when she took that oath, she became the Champion. Remind her of that: She's the Champion now. Not Alder."

Cilan let out a resigned sigh before agreeing.

"I'll do my best."

"Thank you..." Paul trailed off. "Well, I won't keep you any longer. I'm sure you want to see Iris. If Leaf finds you and gets mad you're not working on the speech, direct her to me."

"I will." Cilan stepped back. "Thank you to you, too. I appreciate it."

"I would appreciate it if you tried _not_ to be found by Leaf," Paul said gruffly. "It'll save me some trouble."

Cilan let out a half-hearted laugh.

"I'll keep that in mind."

* * *

After fifteen minutes, Iris finally managed to get her hands to stop shaking, if only because Dawn had held them the entire time and murmured encouraging words that the newly inaugurated Unova Champion could no longer remember. She wasn't so scared as she was shocked. The notion that someone had possibly wanted to kill her had not fully sunk in, yet.

"I'm sorry," Iris began, pulling her hands back from Dawn's. She sat across from the coordinator, and she was also in the company of Gary, Winona, Cynthia, and young Emily. Steven was with Lance, Drayden, and Alder, presumably preparing to head down to the police station with Paul. "I feel so stupid. I should be doing something. I shouldn't just be sitting here and..."

"No, no, sweetheart," Winona corrected, gently touching her shoulder. "It's all right. Don't talk down to yourself."

"This is not the what someone who's supposed to be a leader should be doing," Iris retorted.

"It's okay to let the others handle things right now," Cynthia said tenderly. "Leaf wanted you to have some time to come to yourself. No one is judging you."

Iris nodded but buried her face in her hands. Despite everything, she had yet to cry, and she still lacked the desire.

"I just didn't think this would happen."

"You were given an unfair shake," Gary muttered. Cynthia cast her eyes toward him with an indiscernible expression, but her gaze was knife-like.

"Yeah, it's not your fault," Dawn said reassuringly. "Don't worry. Paul, Leaf—they're going to make sure everything turns out okay. You guys and Wallace are a team."

"And there is a learning curve," Cynthia added. "Paul, Leaf, and Wallace have more than thirteen years of experience combined. You may not feel like a leader now, but you have those natural qualities, and you will settle into them. It's not fair to measure yourself so soon, and especially after something like this."

"Iris?" She perked up upon hearing her name, and she quickly turned her head.

"Cilan," she breathed, and he embraced her when she stood. Her hands tightly grasped the fabric on the back of his vest, and she leaned her head against his chest.

"How are you doing?" he asked.

"Okay."

"Are you lying?" He pulled his head back to look down at her.

"Yes."

Cilan smiled sadly at her before kissing the top of her hair and letting her bury herself in him again. Dawn rose to her feet, and her and Cilan's gazes connected.

* * *

"Okay, well I think the first order of business is to move the teleprompter from outside to inside so those changes to Iris's speech can be inputted," Luke said as he followed Leaf in quick stride. He was a little (a lot) surprised when his services were called upon by a Champion, but he had risen to the occasion. "I'm guessing you guys don't have studio lights, but we'll manage."

"Whatever you need, we'll try to get you, within reason," Leaf said. "I want this filmed and edited as soon as possible."

"Right, don't worry," Luke assured her.

The two moved so quickly that they ended up leaving the rest of the group behind in bewilderment.

"Wait, I don't get it!" Barry called after them. "What's going on? Why is Iris's speech being filmed? What even happened at the ceremony? I swear, someone's going to get a fi-"

"-Assassination attempt." The short answer came from Georgia as she strolled toward them, and initially, they weren't sure if they had heard her correctly.

"What?" Burgundy's voice pitched a note higher. "You can't be _sérieuse_."

"Someone wanted to kill Iris?" Misty pressed further.

"Apparently so," Georgia replied. "Some guy had a gun, and it fired by accident when a G-Men agent tackled him. I'm sure the local friendly league photographer can explain it better than I can, since he's like the hero of the day." She pointed to Trip, who was approaching the group, with her thumb, and he appeared briefly surprised he had been called out.

"Ah... When I was going through one of the entrances, I noticed someone suspicious in the hallways and told one of Paul's G-Men agents about it," Trip elaborated once he realized what was being asked of him. "She was the one who found him and noticed he had the gun."

Most of the group's members appeared struck. Drew exhaled all his air in one, quick breath and pinched the bridge of his nose before leaning back against the wall.

"That's _terrible_," Ritchie said, aghast. "Is Iris okay?"

"We haven't really seen her," Trip answered. "No one was hurt when the gun fired, if that's what you're asking."

May noticed her boyfriend's troubled stance and she looked at him with concern before asking, "What's the matter?"

"Nothing." Drew dropped his hand. "It's not a big deal."

"No, really," she persisted.

"May, believe me, my problems are last on the priority list," Drew said, still trying to ward her off.

"Just spit it out, Drew," Zoey huffed.

When Drew realized he had a dozen eyes on him, he knew he was trapped. He let out an irate sigh and pushed his fingers through his bangs.

"Mr. Contesta asked me this morning to get started on a movement to establish a branch of coordinating in Unova," he began, and several surprised breaths swept across the group. Leaf returned, and she stopped to listen. Drew continued, "But, with this, that's obviously not going to happen now, and that's okay."

"Arceus, Drew, that's awesome," Kenny appalled. "I mean, yeah, all things considered, it's not gonna happen right now, but still-"

"-Oh no, it's going to happen," Leaf suddenly jumped into the conversation, having heard enough.

"What?" Drew asked.

"Don't back down on this because of today," Leaf insisted. "Call Contesta if you must and tell him I want you still working on this."

"_Why_?"

"I don't want Napajian people, or worse, Team Plasma itself, thinking that one grunt can shake up the entire league and G-Men. Also, Iris needs something good to add to her résumé right away, and what better than contests in Unova?" Leaf then cast Ash a pointed look. "And on the note of not letting Team Plasma disrupt league activities—Ash, have your list to me by Friday."

"Oh, about that, I've already got it figured-" He stopped short when he realized Leaf had left again, and he frowned.

* * *

"It looks fine to me," Cilan said, pulling off his reading glasses as he finished skimming the speech Wallace had revised for Iris. "I have no changes to add."

Wallace thanked him before suggesting, "It would be good for Iris to read it over, too, before Mr. Thompson turns on the camera."

"I agree." Cilan nodded.

Luke was in the process of setting up his camera on its stand in front of an armchair pulled from the living quarters of the gym. Elesa had touched up Iris's make-up and hair, now attempting to make her camera ready. Iris waited on the chair, nervously twiddling her thumbs while Luke framed the camera shot. Cilan approached with the speech in hand and knelt at the chair's side.

"Wallace finished the speech," he said, handing it to her. "If you have any input, please let us know."

"I'm sure it's fine," Iris responded. "What changes are there?"

"A different beginning and a tweaked ending," he answered. "To account for what happened."

"Right." Iris scanned the first page, then flipped to the back. "Okay, yeah. I'm fine with this. I trust you and Wallace. I already said today I wasn't a person good with words."

"No, but you are good with many, many other things."

Iris's lips twitched into a smile, which only widened when her eyes met her husband's. Her leaned over the armrest and kissed her, and she gladly reciprocated.

"I'll have these changes made for the teleprompter, too. All right?" Cilan said after pulling away and retrieving the speech.

"All right," Iris agreed. As soon as he got up to leave, Iris heard her name called again. She looked around for the source and eventually rose to her feet, causing Luke to complain about her needing to stay sitting so he could finish framing the shot. She paid little mind to him, however, when she realized her others friends—those who had been in the audience—had come.

She breathed out and smiled again before picking up her dress and hurrying toward them. May and Ash simultaneously embraced her when they met.

"Are you okay?" Ash asked. "No, wait, don't answer that. That's a dumb question."

"We were really worried, and we're so relieved you're all right," May added, a hint of a tearful waver in her voice.

For the first time in the past two hours, Iris felt like she wanted to cry, but she held it back. She didn't want to mess up Elesa's hard work again, especially right before Luke was supposed to film her.

"I feel better now that you guys are here," she said, a little shaky.

"You seem to be doing pretty well," Zoey commented. "A lot better than I would have thought."

"I'm kind of brave facing it right now," Iris admitted.

"Well, you're doing a great job," Stephan said.

"Yeah, if I were you, I would be nowhere near as composed!" Bianca said.

"Iris!" The Unova Champion turned to Leaf when she approached. "Luke and the teleprompter are ready when you are."

Iris nodded, understanding.

"I'm ready," she said.

Leaf escorted her back to the armchair and Luke, once again, adjusted the frame when she sat down. She brushed some hair out of her face and crossed one leg over the other, trying to get comfortable. Perhaps the one silver lining, she realized, was that she got to deliver the speech in front of one camera instead of two dozen and a countless crowd of people.

"Quiet on the floor!" Luke called.

Leaf moved away and stood with the larger group. Others, including Dawn and Gary, were soon to join them. Cilan remained near to Iris, next to the teleprompter. Iris closed her eyes and inhaled, trying to expel all other thoughts. She understood how important this was. This was the start to publicly recovering from the gunshot heard two hours earlier.

"Okay, Iris," Luke began in a half-whisper. "I'm gonna count down from three, and that's when you're gonna begin speaking. Just like old times, right?"

"Right."

"Good... All right, three—" He held up three fingers for emphasis. "—two—" It dropped to two fingers. "—one." He only mouthed the last number before pointing to her.

The words on the teleprompter began to roll.

"To the people of Unova and Napaj," Iris began with a poise and clarity she never believed possible in herself.

.

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	3. II: In Which Gary Presents the Problem

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Chapter II: In Which Gary Presents the Problem

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_**May 8th, 2009. Morning. Opelucid City.**_

The air was still thick with steam from Dawn's shower as she jostled her fingers through her hair and ran the blow dryer, giving her darker, wetter tresses some exposure to the heat. It was becoming more difficult to maintain her hair as it grew longer, but she couldn't bring herself to get it cut—not yet, at least. She had formed too much of an attachment.

After she hit the off switch and set down the blow dryer, she could hear Paul's voice emerge from the other side of the door. She strained to hear him but couldn't make out the words.

She pursed her lips, but continued with the rest of her morning rituals as planned. She finished styling her hair, brushed her teeth, and applied some light make-up. Paul was still talking, and Dawn was trying to decide whether it was by phone or if they had a visitor in their hotel room. She pressed her towel closer to her figure and, cracking open the door, peered outside. Paul was on the phone. Relieved, she opened the door fully. His eyes briefly flicked to her when she walked in.

"I don't have a problem with it," Paul carried on with his conversation. "If Lance thinks it's necessary, that's fine. ... No, I can't. I'm meeting with Iris."

Dawn went to the wardrobe and opened it up. She picked out a few articles of clothing, and Paul turned his head away as she began to dress herself.

"No, she won't, either. Her flight leaves soon, so she and Gary can make it back to Kanto in time his thesis defense," he went on. "... Well, let us know how it goes. All right. Thank you."

"Who were you talking to?" Dawn asked after he hung up, pulling her damp hair out of the collar of her shirt.

"Wallace," Paul answered. "He, Lance, Cynthia, and Steven are meeting with Alder to tell him not to dissuade Iris from starting a Unovan G-Men unit."

"Sounds like a high school reunion, but worse."

"Once you're in, your only out is the grave," Paul added dryly.

"Why aren't you going?"

"Because I'm going to try to _persuade_ Iris to start a Unovan G-Men unit," he replied. "I also wasn't interested in a front-row seat to a sparring match."

Dawn let out a breath and shook her head.

"I really hope you, Iris, and Leaf still like each other after 10 years," she half-laughed.

"Iris? Most likely. Leaf? Questionable," Paul mumbled. "It's really only Cynthia and Lance who fight, anyway."

"You and Leaf only argue because you care about what you do." Dawn hesitated before adding, "Although, I guess the same could be said for Lance and Cynthia, too..."

"That's also questionable."

"Questionable for which one of you? You, Leaf, Cynthia, or Lance?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he dropped his phone off on the desk and went to the closet to retrieve a towel and shower himself. Dawn sighed.

"By the way... There's something I wanted to talk to you about," she tentatively started again.

"That is?"

"Mr. Contesta, the president of the APC, asked Drew to start a new branch of coordinating in Unova," she explained. She was slow, careful. "Drew asked me to join his staff, and I would really like to. The semester for DIL is done, and I don't have anything to do this summer, but..."

Paul shut the closet door and turned to look at her.

"Dawn," he began simply. "You're an adult. You don't have to ask me for permission."

She gave him a disbelieving look. Irritation was apparent in her expression.

"It's not about that," she protested, following him as he headed toward the bathroom. "When you're in a relationship, you _talk_ about these things. If I commit to helping Drew, then I'll be here for the entire summer, if not longer. Long-distance relationships are hard, which is why this is something we should talk about."

Paul stopped and turned to face her again, leaning up against the doorway.

"There is no concern for that," he said. "I'm staying in Unova, too."

"_What_?"

"I'm staying to help Iris. Leaf is going back for the Indigo Conference, and since the Sinnoh League isn't for months, I can stay here and help," he explained.

Dawn wanted to make a comment—Why didn't he bring up his extended stay in Unova with her earlier?—but she held her tongue. He was already in a sour mood, and being snarky would only make him snap.

"All right," she replied, subduing her own frustration. "I'm glad this isn't a problem. ... If we're both staying in Unova, though, do you want to get an apartment together?"

"An apartment?"

"Sure. We could probably find a nice, furnished apartment with a short three- or four-month lease here." Dawn settled back into a mild manner. "I know May and Drew are looking for one. It would be a _lot_ less expensive than paying upward of $150 a night for a hotel room. I mean, if you would rather get separate apartments, that's okay, too."

"No, it's fine," Paul interjected. "We can get an apartment together."

Dawn appeared unsure. She wasn't entirely convinced by his response. Still, she went along with it, saying, "Okay. I'll start looking for one today, then." She reached up and pecked him on the lips. "I have to go. I'm meeting with Drew and the others for coffee, and I'm going to tell him I'm onboard for his campaign. Good luck with Iris."

"Thanks," Paul mumbled in response. "You too."

She smiled before retrieving her purse and heading toward the door. Paul watched her go before shutting himself inside the bathroom.

* * *

Misty mouthed the room numbers as she passed each door down the long hallway, pulling her luggage behind her. When she found the room she wanted, she stopped, raised her hand to knock, and waited. Gary was the one to answer.

"About time you got here," he said without any welcome. Misty rolled her eyes and entered the room when he swung the door further open.

"Good morning to you, too, Gary," she said dryly. Inside, she found Leaf sitting on the sofa, scribbling something on a small notepad. Her and Gary's luggage were set on top of the coffee table. Leaf looked up when she realized Misty had arrived.

"Hey," she greeted. "All checked out?"

"Mhm," Misty intoned, nodding. She pulled her own luggage up beside her as proof.

"Good. I'm just finishing up some sitter notes for Paul. He said Agent Murray would take us to the airport, but I'd rather he work on the case, so I'm thinking about calling a cab."

"Sitter notes?" Misty craned an eyebrow.

"Paul's staying in Unova with Iris to help out," Leaf elaborated. "He doesn't have any real training or experience in PR like Wallace or I do, though, so I'm leaving him some 'do's' and 'do not's.'"

"Couldn't he just call one of you?" Misty asked.

"Paul calling someone for help?" Leaf scoffed as she tore her notes off the pad. "I'll be lucky if he even reads this. I wish I could stay myself, but the league-"

She was cut off by another knock at the door. She, Gary, and Misty exchanged confused looks.

"Was I expecting someone else?" Leaf questioned herself aloud before standing up and heading to the door. The identity of her visitor surprised her.

"Hi... Ash," she said tepidly. She pushed the door further open as an invitation for him to come inside, but he remained firmly rooted to the place he stood.

"Hey." He stuck out a sealed envelope toward her. "You said you wanted my list by Friday, so here it is."

His and Misty's gazes briefly connected, but she looked away and shied out of his view. Gary let out an irritated sigh and sat on the sofa, next to the space Leaf previously occupied. Leaf blinked and accepted the envelope.

"Thank... you..." She sounded unsure. "You know, you could have just waited until we met at the airport."

"Oh, well, Ritchie and I are actually taking a later flight than you," Ash explained.

"You are?"

"Yeah. It leaves like an hour and a half later."

"Well... you could have also given it to me tonight at Gary's thesis defense," Leaf offered. Ash suddenly perked up.

"Can I go to that?"

Leaf gave him a strange look.

"Of course you can," she said.

"Oh... Well, okay then!" Ash's disposition brightened considerably. "I guess Ritchie and I will see you guys tonight then, too."

"Yeah," Leaf agreed. "We'll see you later."

He gave an awkward little wave before turning to leave. Leaf frowned and closed the door. After a brief period of silence, she slowly turned to the others and asked, "Okay... What was that all about?"

"Leaf," Gary began as though it were obvious, tossing a casual hand in the air, "he _knows_ you and Misty are keeping your distance."

Misty cringed at the mention of her name, and Leaf glowered at him.

"Did you tell him?" she asked, annoyed.

"No," Gary answered. "He figured it out on his own, after two of his best friends essentially stopped talking to him after he won the Indigo Conference. You guys are not subtle."

"He has to understand why," Leaf protested.

"He does, and he doesn't." Gary shrugged. "He gets that it has to do with impartiality."

Leaf let out a long, still irate sigh. She leaned back against the desk in the room, folding her arms.

"It's a lot more than just impartiality," she mumbled.

"Look, you're doing anything _wrong_, per se. It's just a bad situation," Gary went on. "Ash is a sensitive guy. There's no getting around that. He also doesn't fully grasp the complexity of Napajian politics. Most people don't."

Leaf huffed again.

"Well, come a couple months, Ash might win the honor of dealing with Napajian politics all to himself. Then maybe he'll understand." Leaf turned and snatched her cell phone off the table. "I'm calling for a cab."

After she left, Misty let out a distressed groan and sunk onto the coach beside Gary. He smiled wryly and said, "Some game, huh?"

* * *

Cilan nimbly fixed his bowtie before stepping back to check his appearance in the mirror. Not a hair out of place, nor a wrinkle to be seen. Cilan let out a breath. Good. Nothing less would be acceptable for an S-Class Connoisseur, let alone the husband of Unova's newest Champion. He and Iris were in the public's eye now, and with Wednesday's incident, the nation's lens was turned on them. They had to be careful; _he_ had to be careful. Anything he did could reflect poorly on Iris, and he did not want to be a greater hindrance to her already wounded reputation.

He left the bathroom back into the bedroom, then through the hallway. He found Iris in the kitchen, sitting by herself at the counter, idly stirring a reddish drink with a straw.

"What do you have there?" Cilan asked, quirking an eyebrow. Iris straightened, only now noticing his presence.

"Leppa Juice," she answered shortly. "It helps when you're not feeling well."

He frowned and asked, "Are you all right?"

"Eh." Iris shrugged her shoulders.

"Mmm... You do look a bit chalky, now that I think about it," Cilan mused. "Perhaps you should take a warm bath. It might help."

"I only like baths if you're in there with me."

Cilan let out a chuckle, initially unsure of how to respond. Iris was much more straightforward than him. It was a quality he admired in her, and it certainly made aspects of their relationship easier. If she was upset, she told him exactly why. If she wanted something, she told him she wanted it. If he was being obnoxious, she told him to knock it off.

She told him she loved him, often.

"Tempting, but I have to meet Burgundy in my office in about an hour," Cilan finally said.

"For your class?" Iris inquired, and Cilan nodded. She sighed and added, "Well, I guess I don't have time, either. Paul's coming over this morning, too, to discuss... things."

"Ah yes, _things_," Cilan said. "And are you going to be open to listening to his things?"

"Maybe," she drawled doubtfully, averting her gaze. He had been trying to approach this same subject with her since Wednesday. Cilan's lips tightened, knowing she was suspicious.

"Iris," he exhaled, deciding to be frank. "It would not be right for me to tell you what to do. Still, I would strongly advise you consider his proposition. He, Leaf, Wallace—they only have your best interests at heart."

"A new branch of the G-Men, though?" Iris groaned.

"I can't help but agree with Leaf and Paul. It may be the next best step," Cilan gently prodded her.

"The way I see it, the G-Men is a huge part of the problem in Napaj," Iris protested. "I don't want to make things worse in Unova."

"True, the G-Men is a part of the problem," Cilan conceded. "It is not the source of the problem, however. The main issue is that the G-Men and league are one in the same, meaning all power is vested into you and the other Champions as unelected officials. That situation doesn't change whether there's a physical G-Men branch here or not. That power that is supposed to exist solely within government is already installed in the Unova League."

"I guess so..."

"Adding a branching of the G-Men unit simply means more protection for you and efficiency in stopping those who intend to do harm unto you and other people and Pokémon," Cilan continued.

"But it reinforces the power of the Championship seat," Iris mumbled. "Sure, yeah, it helps protect against bad guys like Team Rocket and Team Plasma... but..."

Cilan hesitated. She had a point.

"It is a temporary solution," he admitted. "But it's needed now, so you and the others can focus on finding a permanent solution. That's what you, Leaf, and Paul are here for, correct?"

Iris sighed.

"Yeah," she said. "I know you're right. I just don't like it."

"I understand." Cilan reached out and gently ran his hand down her arm. "This was never going to be easy—for any of you."

"Nor was it for you."

Cilan smiled crookedly and then perked up, remembering he had somewhere to be. He glanced down at his watch and said, "I have to run. I'll see you later, though." He leaned toward her again and pecked her on the lips. She smiled as he pulled away.

"_Maiṅ tumse pyār kartī hūṅ_," she said.

"_Je t'aime aussi_," Cilan replied, genuine. "Feel better."

He retrieved his materials before leaving, and Iris downed the rest of her drink.

* * *

"He's late," Lance said sharply, his arms folded as he watched the foot traffic outside the Opelucid Pokémon Center from its top floor. He, along with Wallace, Cynthia, and Steven, were waiting in one of the center's conference room, the same they had once used at the conclusion of the 2002 Team Rocket incident.

"He and Drayden are getting older," Wallace said calmly, offering an excuse.

Initially, Lance didn't respond. Then, he slowly turned to face the others and, addressing Wallace, asked, "Where's Winona?"

"She's watching Emily," Wallace answered. He added, "She wasn't interested in coming anyway."

"Winona's a smart woman to avoid involvement with politics," Steven humored. "Unfortunately, you can only do so much when married to a Champion."

The door opened, and in came Alder with Drayden in tow. Lance's hard gaze turned to Alder. He avoided eye contact with his father.

"We've been waiting for you," Lance said flatly.

"Sorry 'bout that," Alder replied, abashed. "Got caught up in some other things this morning. Thankfully, Drayden was around to get me straightened out, as usual."

"Well, the important thing is that you're here now," Steven said tacitly.

"Right, right..." Alder sat down on the sofa, across from the others. Drayden sat next to him.

"I trust you realize why we wanted to see you today," Cynthia continued.

Alder frowned and sighed.

"I do," he said. "I'll make this short and easy for you guys, since I know you're probably itching to get back home. ... I'm not going to try to pressure Iris into doing, or not doing, anything. The reins are hers now, and it seems Leaf and Paul have a pretty good lock on what they wanna do, even if I disagree."

"If she feels you disapprove, she'll continue resisting," Lance said firmly.

"I won't tell her my opinion unless she asks for it," Alder responded.

Lance appeared unconvinced, and his father soon spoke up.

"I think that's perfectly fair, Lance," Drayden said.

"I agree," Wallace jumped in. "Thank you, Alder. It's greatly appreciated, not just by me, but by Leaf and Paul, too."

"Speaking of which, are they staying with Iris?" Steven asked.

"Paul is," Wallace answered. "Leaf is returning to the Indigo Plateau today. The Kanto League is doubly important to her with Ash as the challenger, and she certainly doesn't want a repeat of the last Silver Conference."

"I don't think anyone wants a repeat of the Silver Conference," Cynthia said. "Right, Lance?"

Initially, Lance appeared shocked at the implications of her inquiry. Then, he became angry.

"Don't you dare accuse me of fraud, Cynthia," he growled. "I told the refs nothing. They have personal motives for giving the match to the incumbent Champion. They don't need me to tell them to do it, and I wouldn't anyway."

Drayden hummed in agreement. Despite the sudden tension, he maintained an even tone as he said, "No ref would want to have their every call questioned by today's media."

"Wha... ?" Alder raised his eyebrows. The direction of the conversation was lost on him.

"There's a growing culture of presumption that the incumbent Champion will never lose, since it hasn't publicly happened for several decades—with you as the victor, as a matter of fact," Steven explained. "So, if a referee declares a televised victory on behalf of the Champion's opponent, there's a fear that people will be picky and challenge that decision."

"This issue was particularly obvious at the Silver Conference," Wallace added.

"Referees don't want to face repercussions from the media," Cynthia continued, apparently rescinding the suggestion Lance had personally ensured Leaf's victory. "If I recall correctly, however, Leaf fired that ref afterward."

"She did," Lance confirmed. His anger had largely subsided. "She was furious. Not only was she upset the match was unfair, she was offended that ref hadn't trusted in her abilities enough to defeat him. She probably would have, too, without the ref's help."

"Ah, I see..." Alder mused. "I didn't watch it, so..."

"It will be interesting to see what Leaf does this time around," Drayden said.

Lance grunted as he finally sat down.

"Yes, it will," he said.

* * *

"So was it a fight, or ... ?" Kenny posed the question carefully as he sat across from Dawn in the small coffee shop where their small clique of coordinators had agreed to meet. They were alone, for now, with May and Drew standing in line to order their drinks, and the ambient, cappuccino-scented atmosphere had allowed them to slide into a more personal conversation.

"Not really," Dawn answered, shrugging. Piplup was out of his ball and in her lap, and she was petting him. "I got mad, but it didn't escalate beyond that. He's just been very moody lately."

"Is there ever a time Paul isn't moody?"

"Well... I think the Championship is starting to overwhelm him," Dawn replied. "It's worse now with the Iris situation."

Kenny frowned.

"Yeah..." He brought his steaming drink to his lips and took a sip. "Is he at least supportive of you joining the campaign?"

"I think so. At least, it didn't faze him when I brought it up. We're going to try to find an apartment here."

"Mm, moving in together," Kenny teased. "Taking him for a test drive, Dee-Dee? You sure about that?"

Dawn scoffed before saying, "Don't be dumb. Knowing Paul, that kind of thing would be far, far in the future. Besides, we all know May and Drew are next in line."

"Next in line for what?" May asked innocently as she returned to the table with Drew.

"For coffee," Kenny answered quickly, though coolly, to save Dawn from the potentially embarrassing inquiry. "But now you've got your drinks, so let's talk about this campaign. What's the status, chief?"

"One, don't call me 'chief.' Two, where's Zoey?" Drew asked as he settled down into his seat.

"I sent her a message several minutes ago, and she replied that she was on her way," Dawn said. "She said not to wait."

"Well, in that case..." Drew turned and reached into his bag, pulling out a folder. "... the 'status' is that I'm still trying to fill out a staff list. I have a lot of names for who could fill these positions, but I wanted to run them by you guys. There are also several jobs where I'm drawing a blank, and I need ideas for who could do them."

He handed out several copies to his table companions, May included, and Dawn asked, "So you haven't actually hired any of these people yet?"

"No, I was planning on making phone calls tonight," Drew answered. "The only people confirmed so far are me, you, Kenny, and May."

"And probably Zoey when she gets here," Kenny added, turning the page. "Kelly Jacqueline in fundraising, huh? She's the girl who helps run her family's Pokéblock business in Lilycove, isn't she?"

"Yeah," Drew affirmed. "I'm hoping we can strike a partnership where she comes over and sells her Pokéblock and other things, with part of the proceeds going toward the campaign."

"Aw, I love Kelly! I'm positive she would do it," May gushed before looking back down at the packet. "Gosh, I feel like I know everyone on here—Brianna, Janet, Anthony, Grace, Savannah..." She paused, squinting. "I didn't know Savannah was a lawyer."

"She's had to bail her fellow MFP members out of trouble before," Drew explained in brief.

"Not surprising." Dawn let out a laugh before moving onto the next page. She paused when she saw the next name on the printed table. " ... Ursula Schoenberg for Social Media Manager?"

"Mm, right," Drew said with a light of realization in his eyes before he set down his coffee. "I wanted to ask you about that. Ursula was actually one of the recommendations Contesta passed onto me. She apparently was a social media intern for the APC a while back and did a good job, but I know you two are rivals and that there's a bit of a history there."

"No need to worry about that," Dawn cut in before Drew could continue. "If Ursula's good for the position, then you should definitely hire her. We're both adults, and I think we can be mature enough to set aside personal things and work together."

"If you say so," Drew said, shrugging. He stopped to look over at May when she nudged him in the shoulder several times. "What is it, May?"

"I saw that you have 'Accounts Supervisor' blank," she said. "That's like finances and budgets and stuff, right?"

"That's right."

"Well, I think I know someone who could fill it," May went on. "Do you remember Timmy Grimm? He's the guy who beat you right before the Verdanturf Contest so you couldn't enter?"

"How could I forget?" Drew replied dryly. When Kenny snickered, Drew whipped his head toward him and said, "Shut up, I was 12."

"Well, now he goes by Tim Grimm, and he _just_ graduated from Verdanturf University with a degree in Accounting," May continued. "I think he's still looking for a job, and this would be perfect for him!"

"All right." Drew retrieved a ballpoint pen and wrote the name down on his own copy. "Do you have his number?"

"I think so..." May pulled out her phone and began scrolling through her contact list. Dawn blinked and continued looking through Drew's tentative staff list.

"Are you only looking to hire coordinators?" she asked.

"No," Drew answered as May handed him her phone and he copied down Tim's number. "I'm fine with hiring outside the class. A lot of these people don't even compete anymore and have moved onto other things. Do you have someone in mind?"

"Well..." Dawn drawled. "Conway works in IT at the Snowpoint Academy, and I think he could be Chief Technology Officer. It would be a good stepping stone for him to do something better, so he might be interested."

"Can he make a website?"

"Probably," Dawn answered. "I don't have his number, but Candice would."

"Mmm," Kenny intoned, drawing in the attention of the others. "If you're gonna be lenient on trainer class, then do you think that maybe Barry could be put on staff? I think he'd be down for it. He probably would have come today if he hadn't agreed to spend time with Bianca."

"What would he do?" Drew asked.

"I dunno—outreach and marketing with me? He's a versatile guy," Kenny replied coolly. "The only reason I suggested it is because Barry _really_ needs something to keep him occupied. He's still pretty torn up about what happened with Kyle." Kenny paused and flipped through the pages of the staff list again. "Er, Kyle isn't on here, is he?"

"No, I hate Kyle," Drew said point-blank.

"Who _doesn't_ hate Kyle?" Zoey said as she passed by, grabbing a nearby chair from an empty table and joining the group.

"Zoey!" Dawn beamed.

"Nice to finally have you here," Drew added.

"Yeah, what took you?" Kenny asked.

"I was busy packing," Zoey explained. "I wanted to make sure I had enough time to come here and enjoy some coffee and conversation with you guys before my flight for Snowpoint City leaves this afternoon."

"Wait..." May's expression fell. "You're not staying? You're going back to Snowpoint? What about the campaign?"

"Ah..." Zoey hesitated. "I, actually, will not be joining you four on this venture."

"Why not?" Dawn asked.

"Previous commitments," Zoey answered shortly. "Snowpoint Academy will offer its first class for coordinators beginning in the fall, and I will be its teacher. I'm using the summer to design the curriculum."

"Wha-? Hey, that's pretty cool," Kenny conceded, though his tone lacked overt enthusiasm.

"Yeah," Dawn agreed, similarly concealing her disappointment. "It's just a shame we won't have you here with us."

Zoey waved it off, saying, "There are plenty of other people who can handle media relations, probably better than I can. I think it's great what you're doing, though, and I wish you the best of luck." She paused and glanced at the counter. "Anyway... I'm gonna grab a drink, and I'll let all of you resume what I can only assume was a very important conversation about how much we collectively dislike Kyle."

She slid out of her chair, and her companions exchanged glances. Drew clicked his tongue before he spoke.

"To answer your question, Kenny," he began, "I'm completely fine with Barry joining the staff if he's interested and available. Dawn, please get Candice's number so we can ask her for Conway's contact information. And feel free to write any other names and numbers of people who could fill those empty positions. Now, if you'll excuse me-"

He rose and followed Zoey. He found her in line, on her phone, and joined her.

"You know, I wouldn't have pegged you as a teacher," he casually started, and Zoey let out an annoyed breath, as though she had expected this to happen. "Interesting use of your journalism degree, for sure."

"Oh, like you were going to do anything relevant with political science until Contesta came along," Zoey scoffed.

"Exactly. Hence, why I'm surprised you'd pick _teaching_, of all things, over something you enjoy and are actually trained to do."

"You mean, you're surprised I'm picking Candice over you?" Zoey lightly mocked. "Because I could name a couple reasons."

"I am surprised." Drew played along, feigning a hurt expression. "Gee, Zoey, I thought we had something special."

"I'm sorry, Drew, but it just isn't going to work out. It's not meant to be; it never was meant to be." She sighed before adding, "In all seriousness, though—as much as I enjoy writing, freelancing for random news publications wasn't enough, and I turned down the position at Coordinators Weekly because I wasn't going to work for such a trashy tabloid. Besides, believe it or not, I'm looking forward to teaching this class. The say education is one of the most rewarding career fields. I mean, Cilan seems pretty into it, and your girlfriend's going to be teaching after she graduates next year."

"I'm not denying that education's great," Drew said calmly. "But it's not what you really want to do. Teaching is something you have to be passionate about, and May and Cilan are perfect fits for it. You? Maybe. But don't resort to it because you're struggling to get a stable job at a reputable news source. It's tough to break into journalism."

"Don't tell me what I do or don't want." Zoey rolled her eyes.

"This could be your in, Zoey."

"Hm, how many times have I heard that line from employers insisting me offering free clips would strengthen my résumé?"

"I can actually pay you, though," Drew persisted. "I know it's not reporting on the contest beat for The Hearthome Chronicle, but it is coordinator-related, and it is writing, and it is paid."

"It's also another temp job." Zoey shook her head. "Drew, I really do appreciate the offer. But you're going to have to get someone else to write your press releases."

It was her turn in line. She turned to to the cashier and politely said, "Tall with half-and-half, please."

The cashier smiled and rang her up. "That'll be $1.95."

Zoey turned to reach for her card, but Drew stopped her. "Let me get it," he said, pulling two bills out of his wallet and handing it to the cashier. "Keep the change."

Zoey appeared suspicious, but thanked him before the barista handed her drink to her. As soon as she and Drew returned to their table, May looked up at them from the potential staff list and spoke.

"You know who I realized is missing from this list?" she began. "Solidad and Harley! I can't find them anywhere."

"That's because I have other things in mind for them," Drew said, scooting in his chair, back toward the group. "I was thinking, to help kick-off the movement, that we hold a Q&amp;A Panel with some popular Top Coordinators. I'd like Solidad and Harley to participate, along with maybe Robert Schemmel, Nando Libert, Dr. Abby Neill..."

"Ohh!" May's eyes widened, as did her smile. "That sounds great! Solidad and Harley would be perfect that kind of thing, and so would Robert and Nando and Abby."

"That is, if we can get them to agree," Drew said before turning an eye toward Dawn, who was smiling down at her Piplup as he happily gobbled up some Pokémon kibbles in her hand. "I'd like you to be on top of putting that together, Dawn."

Dawn straightened up and nodded before saying, "Sure! I'd love to do it."

"Did you get Candice's number, by the way?" Drew continued.

"Yes. I haven't called her yet, though," she replied. "Piplup was hungry."

"That's all right. I'll take care of it."

Zoey narrowed her gaze before taking a sip of her drink, eyeing Drew warily.

* * *

Trip had always been particular about his workspace. Despite the hectic schedule he occasionally ran as the sole photographer for the Unova League, he kept his studio spotless. Not a thing was out of place, and if it was, it wouldn't stay that way for long. His lenses were organized by size and safely stowed away in the drawer of his desk, while his flashdrives full of vast collections of photographs were labeled and similarly organized. He never lost anything.

Presently, Trip was performing some minor color correction on the photos he had taken Wednesday, before he would compress them in a .zip file and send them to Iris (and Cilan) for approval. They would publicly release a set of only fifteen or twenty, despite the hundreds he had on file.

Undoubtedly, Trip's favorite was the one he had aimed to obtain, the one that had potentially ended up saving Iris's life. In the back of his mind, he knew if he hadn't caught the Team Plasma Grunt trespassing, Iris could very well be dead. He tried not to think about that, though. Instead, he focused on the shadows that fell across her face in the still, on the light the filtered through the curtains, as he adjusted the contrast. This would definitely make the set.

Trip's concentration broke when his cell phone rang. He reached for it and checked the caller ID before answering.

"Hey, Ritchie," Trip greeted. "Doesn't your plane leave soon?"

"_Ash and I are actually about to leave for the airport,_" Ritchie answered. "_I wanted to ask you something, though. You said the other day that there's only one good cab service in Opelucid, and I can't remember the name._"

"Dividing Line Taxis," Trip said.

"_Do you have the number?_"

"Hang on." Trip minimized his photo editing program and pulled up an Internet browser. He typed 'Diving Line Taxis' in the search bar and found the company's site. "Do you have a pen and paper?" Trip heard some muffled conversation between Ash and Ritchie as one of them scrambled for a writing utensil. When Ritchie gave the OK, Trip slowly read the number, "(860)-555-9732," aloud.

"_All right! Got it. Thanks,_" Ritchie said after a moment.

"Okay. Have a nice flight. Call me when you get to Kanto."

"_Will do. Thanks again._"

After Ritchie hung up, Trip pressed his lips together and set the phone of to the side once more. He pulled up his photo editing program once again and decided he shouldn't tamper with it much longer. He didn't want to ruin the message he needed to deliver.

* * *

Burgundy adjusted her blouse, re-tucking it into the waist of her pencil skirt. She then reached into her bag, pulled out a tube of red lipstick and, leaning over the bathroom sink toward the mirror, touched herself up. She smacked her lips and put the lipstick away before retrieving her phone to check the time. She didn't want to arrive early and seem anxious. Yet, it was 9:58 a.m., and she had agreed to meet Cilan at 10 a.m. It was time to get moving.

She let out a huff and moved toward the door, pushing it open with her hip. Cilan's office was just down the hall, so she didn't have far to go. The Opelucid campus—one of three locations for the PCA in Unova, the original being in Striaton City and the other in Nimbasa City—was mostly empty, seeing as it was a Friday, and classes for the spring session had already ended while the summer session began in just under two weeks. Still, a few students lingered around campus for various reasons, herself included.

Burgundy, however, sucked in her breath when she noticed two connoisseuses in her path. They were they only other two females in her cohort of eleven A-Class Connoisseurs, ten of which had been accepted into the S-Class program. The two ladies noticed Burgundy, too, as she approached, though they said nothing. One looked smug; the other, whom Burgundy had always found more agreeable, appeared sympathetic. Burgundy refused them eye contact as she passed by, the sound of her heels puncturing the silence.

The door to Room 106 was already halfway open when she approached. She peered inside, and Cilan was sitting at his desk, working on his laptop. She tepidly knocked on the door to get his attention. He looked up.

"Burgundy." He smiled at her warmly. "Please, come in, sit down."

She kept her expression even as she walked inside and pulled out the extra chair, the one Cilan undoubtedly intended for his students. She took in her surroundings as she sat down, crossing one leg over the other. Against the wall rose a large bookcase, its shelves full of tightly compacted texts, many modern, a few of which were controversial and might be considered trash by more traditional-minded faculty. On his desk stood a framed photo of him and Iris on their wedding day.

"How are you?" Cilan asked amicably. "I feel it's been a while since we spoke face-to-face."

"You know, I'm just peachy," she answered, her voice strained.

Cilan frowned and sighed.

"Burgundy, I don't know what President Poltiere or some of the PCA Opelucid board members might have told you, though I imagine it hasn't been pleasant," he began. "Please know, this is not a punishment."

"Really," Burgundy said dryly.

"Yes."

"Okay."

Cilan knew he had still done nothing to convince her, but he smiled anyway and turned to retrieve a sheet of paper, printed front and back. He then handed it to her.

"This is the course syllabus," he explained. "It's for C-Class Connoisseurs, so the age range of students typically falls between 13 and 15, though we do see an occasional 16- or 17-year-old if they began pursuing Connoisseur ranks later than usual. I'm sure you remember a lot of the content, since you once took it, too."

Burgundy said nothing in response, though her eyes began to scan the page:

**EVA 201: The Role of Pokémon Natures in Trainer/Pokémon Relationships****  
**Summer 2009 Session. Room 106. T/Th 10:15 a.m. - 11:45 a.m.

**Cilan Griffith, S-Class Connoisseur  
**B.A. in Social and Behavioral Sciences, Striaton University  
Office: Room 32; Phone: (860)-555-9714  
Officer Hours: T/Th 9:00 a.m. - 10:00 a.m., by appointment

**Burgundy Myers, A-Class Connoisseuse**  
B.A. in Liberal Studies, Digital Institute of Learning

**Course Summary:**

Pokémon have personalities as complex and varied as humans. A Pokémon's Nature—that is, their personality—can drastically affect the way it performs in battle, making Nature an important factor in determining the compatibility between a trainer and Pokémon. This course will examine the wide range of Natures in Pokémon, equip students with the methods needed to identify a Pokemon's Nature, as well as explore the benefits and limitations of the theories behind matching Nature with trainers' battling preferences.

**Required Texts:**

_Pokémon Natures: Understanding Personality and Compatibility for Beginning Pokémon Connoisseurs_, Gerard M. Poltiere  
_The Symbiosis Between Pokémon and Humans_, Samuel H. Oak

All other course readings on the syllabus will be supplied by the instructor.

**Grading:**

_Possible Points:_

40 Daily Participation. Eight (8) points will be deducted for each absence following the third, excused or unexcused.  
10 Personality Chart.  
10 Nature Presentation.  
15 Matching Project.  
25 Final Evaluation of a Pokémon's Nature.

100 Points Total

_Grading Scale:_

**A** 90 - 100  
**B** 80 - 89  
**C** 70 - 79  
**D** 60 - 69  
**F** Below 60

**Attendance:**

Attendance is required for success. We will spend multiple class sessions testing new methods of evaluation and identifying a Pokémon's Nature in preparation for the final evaluation at the end of the semester, which students must pass in order to receive credit for the class. Students have up to three absences before their grade is affected.

**Course Schedule:**

_May 19_ Introduction; What is Nature?  
_May 21_ Why does Nature matter?  
_May 26_ Poltiere Chapter 2; The types of Natures  
_May 28_ The types of Natures (cont.)

_June 2_ Poltiere Chapter 3; How Nature affects battling  
_June 4_ The Six Stats of Pokémon" by Jonathon Willow; Correlations between Pokémon Stats and Nature  
_June 9_ Poltiere Chapter 5; Methods of identifying Nature in Pokémon  
_June 11_ Observation of Pokémon session  
_June 16_ Which personality traits match each Nature?  
_June 18_ Observation of Pokémon session; Personality Chart due  
_June 23_ Oak Chapter 3; Battle styles of trainers and their Pokémon  
_June 25_ What constitutes "style"  
_June 29_ Observing the style of a trainer

_July 2_ "Nature and Battling Preferences: Why it Matters" by Melissa Betula  
_July 7_ Observation of Pokémon session  
_July 9_ Special Guest: Q&amp;A with PCA President Gerard Poltiere  
_July 14_ Observation of Pokémon session  
_July 16_ Nature Presentations  
_July 21_ Nature Presentations  
_July 23_ Poltiere Chapter 7; Oak Chapter 5; Bridging differences in style and Nature  
_July 28_ "Mending Bad Matches" by Alexander Clemens  
_July 30_ Poltiere Chapter 8; Oak Chapter 7; Using Nature as a tool to strengthen Pokémon/Trainer relationships

_Aug 4_ "Does Theory Always Work? Separating Theory from Actual Practice" by Allana Sylvatica  
_Aug 6_ Oak Chapter 10; The value of Pokémon/Trainer relationships over theory  
_Aug 11_ Poltiere Chapter 11; Nature in the Context of Pokémon/Trainer relationships  
_Aug 13_ When you know a match is right  
_Aug 18_ Observation of Pokémon session  
_Aug 20_ Observation of Pokémon session; Matching Project due  
_Aug 25_ Review  
_Aug 27_ Final Evaluation of a Pokémon's Nature

.

Burgundy pressed her lips together as she finished reading and set the paper down on her lap. She didn't expect Cilan to include her name on syllabus, though half of her wished he hadn't. Not only was she stuck at a lower rank, her degree in liberal studies from a free online institution like DIL paled into comparison to Cilan's accolades from the far more prestigious Striation University.

"If you're comfortable with it," Cilan started after a moment, "I would love to update the syllabus with your number, too, so students may contact you with questions. You're also free to join me during office hours for any that may decide to visit."

"I don't see what the point of that would be," Burgundy mumbled. "Why would anyone want to speak with the A-Class TA when they can talk to the S-Class professor?"

"I think you would be surprised," Cilan said. "You may find a lot of students appreciate your opinion or find you more relatable and accessible than myself. I believe your presence in the classroom will be a positive experience for both you and the students."

Burgundy frowned and pushed one of her curls out of her face.

"Well, I suppose I don't have a problem with it," she said, and Cilan retrieved a sticky note from inside his desk and a pencil. "My number's (860)-555-7278."

"I'll add it tonight, then," Cilan responded. He removed the sticky note from its pad and attached it to his laptop. "There's something else I have for you, by the way."

He stood and retrieved one of the books off his bookshelf, giving it to her. She turned it over in her hands, reading the spine. It was one of the more aged texts from his collection.

"This is Professor Oak's book, _The Symbiosis Between Pokémon and Humans_, " Cilan explained, and Burgundy resisted the temptation to say that she _knew_; she could read, too. "The director of curriculum does not require it for EVA 201, but I include it in the sections I teach. I think the core standards set forth by the PCA for this class focus too much on theory and don't account for the natural relationship Pokémon and humans form, despite minor incongruities in personality. The theory is important to understand of course, and the things President Poltiere writes in his text are of great value, too. But I think letting students read Oak's research adds another dimension of understanding."

He inclined his head toward her.

"I'm assuming you haven't read it before, though, have you?" he asked.

"No," Burgundy answered shortly. "I've read President Poltiere's book, though."

"I thought that would be the case," Cilan said. "I don't expect you to read the entirety of Oak's book prior to summer classes beginning, but it might be good to get a head start, so you can keep up with the students."

Burgundy hummed, nodding. She wasn't going to protest (as if she had the room to do it, anyway).

"I'll be sure to email you my lesson plans for the course tonight, too," Cilan added. "I spent the last few days modifying them to account for your presence as a co-teacher. You may spend the first few sessions observing, but I'm sure you'll become more active in the classroom as you grow more comfortable."

"Is that all then?" Burgundy asked flatly.

"Unless you have any questions for me, that is all," Cilan replied politely.

"I don't." Burgundy stood, slipping Oak's text into her bag. "Thank you. I'll see you in class May 19th."

"Take care of yourself until then," Cilan said as she headed for the door. "Goodbye. Enjoy the rest of your day."

Burgundy didn't look back as she headed back out into the hallway. The other women in her cohort were gone. She pulled her fingers through her hair and let out a frustrated sigh. She hated her situation. She hated that he was nice to her. Most of all, she hated that he was the only person nice to her in her situation.

* * *

Iris didn't like her office, mostly because it didn't feel like hers. She had inherited it from Drayden four years earlier when he retired as the Opelucid City Gym Leader and passed the baton to her, but she hardly ever used it. It seemed too formal, too regal, to her tastes, and every time she stepped inside, she was reminded of when she was 15, when Alder and Drayden informed her in that same room that she would one day become the Unova Champion. She had conflicting feelings over the memory.

Now she was 22, and she had become what they said she would be, but she didn't feel like the title belonged to her either.

Haxorus let out a contended noise as he fell forward onto a plush Pokémon bed near her desk. Iris giggled, watching him as she leaned over the polished wood. The cord leading the phone sitting atop her desk was visibly disconnected. Cilan had pulled the plug yesterday when the calls started coming. While the Unova League itself was well-regulated with a full professional staff, there was no one to manage her affairs as Champion. Leaf, Paul, and Wallace all had employees within their divisions of the G-Men whose job it was to do menial, though important tasks like sort letters, screen phone calls, oversee appointment scheduling, among other things. She had none, save maybe Trip, the closest she had to a media relations specialist, since he was in charge of releasing league-official stock to media outlets. He would scoff if she called him such, though, and would remind her that he was simply her photographer.

In short, she and Cilan were completely unprepared for the wave of people wanting to speak with her following Wednesday's incident. The moment he disconnected the phone, she knew she would need to follow Paul and Leaf's advice and start a G-Men unit, not only for herself, but for him as well. She was simply unhappy it had to come to that.

"Is your Haxorus a pet, or is it an actual threat?" Iris nearly jumped when she heard Paul's voice behind her. "I really can't tell."

She spun around to see the Sinnoh Champion looking at her with a deadpan expression. He had a small, thin white box in his hands. Her Haxorous lifted his head when he heard his name mentioned, watching the two.

"Geez, Paul, you scared me," Iris breathed. "You're too tall to sneak up on me like that, especially with what happened Wednesday."

"Sorry?" Paul craned an eyebrow. "You do realize your husband is over 6'0", too, right?"

"Cilan is thin and weak and not a threat. I could bring him to his knees if I wanted."

"I think you already did, three years ago." He paused before adding, "I brought you something."

He passed the white box along to her, and she accepted it. She turned it over in her hands, looking at it curiously.

"Don't worry, it's nothing that could hurt you. I don't know whether Cilan told you, but Angela has been sifting through your mail to make sure there's nothing dangerous being sent to you, or no threatening letters from Team Plasma," Paul said.

"He did." Iris nodded. "And?"

"Nothing so far. There's been a lot of support for you, in fact."

Iris's bottom lip twitched into a smile. She didn't expect she would get support, but it was a relief to hear she had it.

"Well, you know it's a good day when someone isn't trying to kill you via the Unova Postal System," she said. She then held up the box and asked, "So what's this, then?"

"It's from Diantha, the Champion of the league in Kalos, Napaj's closest ally," Paul answered. "She also sent both Leaf and I things after our inaugurations."

Iris raised her eyebrows and decided not to delay it any longer. She removed the white lid and was surprised to see a necklace nestled in the cotton padding. She delicately slipped two fingers beneath the silver chain and lifted it up, admiring the pendant attached at the end: A strangely translucent pearl that cast brilliant rainbows from the sunlight of her window. Diantha must have known she specialized in Dragon-types, as the pearl was set between a silverpiece that was cut suspiciously like a Noivern's wings.

"So, you and Leaf have something like this, too?" Iris asked, looking back at Paul. He nodded.

"Diantha left a card, too," he said, reaching into his back pocket and handing to her. She set the box aside on her desk to accept it.

"Thank you," she said. She carefully laid the pendant in its jewelry box again and put it and the letter in her desk. "I'll have to read it later. I'm guessing there are more important things you'd rather be talking about right now."

"You guess right."

Iris let out a breath.

"You know," she began, "it's really underhanded to use my husband against me, to get me to go along with your and Leaf's plans."

"Cilan wouldn't have agreed to talk to you unless he genuinely thought we were right." Paul shrugged. "We didn't have to sit down and convince him. The three of us knew we would have to sit down and convince _you_."

"Well, I guess you succeeded, then," Iris said, and Paul turned his head, suspicious.

"You are willing to start a G-Men branch in Unova?" he asked.

"Yes." It frustrated Iris to agree. "But on my terms."

"They being?"

"I don't directly oversee it like you and the others," she answered. "I want someone else to do it. That person would obviously still answer to me, but... they're the one who manages all the agents and G-Men-related business. My focus is the league. That's the way it should be, isn't it?"

"It is," Paul conceded. "I'm fine with it."

"You... You are?" Iris was half-expecting that she would need to spar with him to get her way.

"It will make it easier if and when we try to restructure the Napajian government," he said. "You and I could write a job description tonight and use it to recruit someone. Do you want to hire from inside the G-Men or outside?"

"I... guess I'm fine with it either way," Iris hesitated. "I thought it might be nice if we could send some kind of notice to the smaller police departments throughout the regions and let people apply."

"We can do that," Paul said. "One of my agents can compile the contact information for every city police department, and we can ask Leaf and Wallace if they'd be willing to spread the news inside their divisions. Do you have paper and something to write with? Let's get this job description done."

He brushed past Iris and moved behind her desk. He opened up one of the drawers to look for the aforementioned writing utilities.

"So this is happening right now?" she asked. Strands of disbelief were threaded through her voice.

Paul straightened up, having found what he needed.

"This is what I'm here for," he said simply.

* * *

"Hello, welcome to Opelucid City Airport," one of the several PokéAirlines receptionists greeted Zoey when it was her turn in line. "How may I help you?"

"Hi," Zoey began, sliding her ID across the counter. "I'm Zoey Williams, and I'd like to pick up my plane ticket to Snowpoint City."

"Of course," the receptionist said, smiling as he took Zoey's ID. "Do you have any baggage you need to check?"

"Nothing," Zoey answered. "I only have a carry-on."

"Okay, then just wait one moment for me to print your ticket." Zoey waited and watched as the receptionist typed in Zoey's name on her ID. She became alarmed however when the receptionist furrowed his eyebrows and said, "I'm sorry, Ms. Williams, but it appears you cancelled your hold on the ticket to Snowpoint City today."

"What?"

"Your purchase was cancelled earlier this afternoon," the receptionist repeated.

"I didn't-" Zoey stopped short, as an image of her credit card—the one she had used to purchase her tickets—sitting on her wardrobe back home in Snowpoint City flashed across her mind.

"Excuse me?" the receptionist politely inquired.

"Never mind," Zoey said, gritting her teeth. "Can I repurchase the ticket?"

"I'm afraid the flight has since been filled," he apologized. "The next flight to Snowpoint City leaves tomorrow at 4 p.m."

"Tomorrow?!"

"Yes. I'm terribly sorry for the inconvenience," the receptionist said, frowning.

"It's..." Zoey trailed off, trying to maintain her composure. "Thank you."

She grabbed her bag and stormed away before reaching into her pocket and furiously dialing a number. The person on the end of the line picked up right away.

"_Need a ride?_" Drew's said without any greeting, a touch of smugness in his voice. "_I rented a car this afternoon. I can make that happen._"

"You're a real son of a bitch, Drew Hayden," Zoey seethed. "You're paying for my next flight out of here."

"_Hey, if you're going to be mad at anyone, be mad at Candice. She's the one who cancelled your flight,_" Drew replied coolly, washing himself of guilt. "_I only asked her to convince you to stay when I called her. She came up with the idea to trap you at the airport on her own, and she hung up before I could say anything about it._"

"That doesn't change that you knew about it and didn't tell me. Does 'no' mean anything to you?"

"_Of course it does. I didn't want it to go this far, but Candice will be Candice, right?_"

Zoey emitted a low growl.

"I'll deal with you later," she said, pressing "end" on the call. She immediately dialed another number.

"_Hey, Zoe-Zoe,_" Candice said, picking up after a couple rings.

"Don't 'Zoe-Zoe' me," Zoey sassed. "You know that credit card on my dresser that has _my_ name on it? Yeah, it's really not cool to use it to cancel my flights without my permission."

"_Look, I know you're mad, and I'm sorry,_" Candice started, "_but when Drew called and told me what you were turning down... I knew I just had to do something! I knew you wouldn't listen with you headed to the airport, so I had to make sure the flight was out of the way. Zoey, you have to do this. You have to accept Drew's offer!_"

"That's not your call to make," Zoey said. "I need the summer to plan for the class at Snowpoint Academy."

"_Zoey, you teaching was a fallback_," Candice reminded. "_I know you were frustrated after what happened with Coordinators Weekly, but... come on! This is a killer opportunity._"

"PR is not my specialty, and this is largely what that is," Zoey retorted.

"_I know you could do it. So does Drew._"

"What about the class?"

"_Forget the class, Zoey. If you're that bent on teaching, we can push it to the Spring 2010 or even the Fall 2010 semester_," Candice said. "_I have feeling this'll be exactly what you need to jumpstart your journalism career, though. Working media relations for would for a campaign that would put contests in Unova? Having Drew Hayden, a two-time Top Coordinator, as a reference? Showing you have those kind of connections with the APC would for sure land you the contest beat at a real newspaper._"

Zoey was silent for a long moment, considering Candice's words. She fiddled with the handle of her carry-on and realized something.

"I don't have the means to stay out here," she said. "I need to go back to Snowpoint anyway."

"_I'll ship you some things. It's no big deal; I'm sure Dawn and Kenny are having the same done for them,_" Candice said. "_If you come back here, I know you'll stay._"

Zoey let out an exasperated sigh. Now she was completely out of excuses.

"... I'm still mad at you," she finally said.

"_I can live with that,_" Candice replied cheerily, delighted Zoey had given in, "_because I know you'll thank me later. Also because I know you're going to lash out at Drew and not me._"

Zoey scoffed before adding, "I'll talk to you later."

"_For sure! Knock 'em dead, Zoe-Zoe! Love ya!_"

"Yeah, okay. Love you too."

After she hung up, Zoey dragged herself to a nearby bench and sat down. Her face fell into her hand, her thumb rubbing her temple. Yet, the makings of a smile spread across her face as she lifted her phone once more and dialed a number.

"_Yes, Zoey?_" Drew answered after a brief delay.

Zoey huffed and said nothing for a moment, but Drew was patient. Then, swallowing her pride, she said, "So... about that ride?"

_**May 8th, 2009. Early Evening. Viridian City.**_

"Is it typical for this many people to show up to a thesis defense?" Leaf asked, leaning against the podium as her boyfriend was finishing up some last-minute preparations for his presentation. The classroom, a small fifty-seat lecture hall at the esteemed Viridian University, was brimming with people, though the defense was still about ten minutes away from beginning.

"No," Gary answered shortly. "It's usually just the thesis committee and maybe a couple friends or family members. I don't recognize most of the people here."

"Maybe they thought they were coming to see Professor _Samuel_ Oak and not his grandson," Leaf suggested wryly.

"Or they came to see how I would measure up," Gary muttered bitterly. He plugged his data drive into the computer and loaded up his PowerPoint.

"Well, take comfort in the fact that at least the whole first row is cheering for you."

Gary flicked his gaze up and couldn't help but smirk. His thesis team—which comprised two tenured faculty at the university, both of whom had once taught him in their classes, and an adjunct professor, the famous Pokémon researcher, Bill Blaustein—were seated directly in front of the screen. There were many other familiar faces, however: his grandfather, Ms. Ketchum, Tracey, Daisy, Brock, Misty... Even Professor Rowan had come to support his former intern. Ritchie and Ash had yet to arrive, though Gary knew both were coming.

"All the more pressure to do well, right?" he said lightheartedly.

"If all else fails, just smile and look handsome," Leaf said.

"If only dashing looks got you degrees."

"Don't they? How would you have earned your undergrad otherwise?"

"Go sit down."

Meanwhile, Ash and Ritchie finally arrived, both surprised by the volume of people in the classroom.

"Wow," Ritchie remarked. "You'd think we'd come to see an event speaker with all these people here, and not a student trying to pass his thesis."

"Gary's always been super popular, I guess," Ash said. Pikachu looked around the room before perking up and crying out, "Pikachu-Pi!" He jumped down from Ash's shoulder and scurried across the floor, coming to a halt in front of Misty.

Misty let out a laughing before lifting him up.

"Hi Pikachu," she said, rubbing the top of his head as she set him on her lap. "It's only been a day—have you really missed me that much?"

Ash cautiously approached. Ritchie let out a sigh and followed.

"How was your flight?" Misty asked politely when they came.

"It was okay," Ash answered, shrugging. A prolonged silence ensued, and Ritchie and Brock exchanged exasperated glances. Delia also cast a concerned look their way. Pikachu felt as though he had caused a disturbance, and he folded his ears back before wriggling his way out of Misty's grasp and leaping back onto Ash's shoulder.

"Well," Ritchie broke into the conversation (or lack thereof), clicking his tongue, "it looks Gary's going to start soon, so we should go find a seat. I'm sure we'll... talk more afterward."

He pulled Ash away, moving up the stairs toward one of the middle rows, which had a couple of empty seats. Leaf, who had watched the incident unfold, sauntered back to the group and reclaimed her seat beside Misty.

"You two are ridiculous," she laughed, and Misty looked annoyed.

"Excuse me, Madam Champion, but you're the one who asked me and the other E4s to 'maintain strict adherence to the impartiality clause' after the conference," Misty reminded. "I wouldn't intentionally make things between Ash and I awkward."

"Oh, I know," Leaf replied. "And I appreciate it, especially since I also know you have a history of breaking the impartiality clause."

"Once. And you didn't seem to care when it happened."

"I didn't." Leaf shrugged. "But now I have to with Ash posed to take us on, and with the disaster that was the Silver Conference. I promise you can make out with Ash as much as you want after he gets through the Elite Four battles—if he gets through them."

Brock chuckled, and Misty turned bright red and hissed, "Leaf, his mother is sitting a couple seats away."

"Whatever." Leaf waved it off. "There's so much talking going on that she can't hear us."

But she did. Delia pretended she hadn't, but she had to bite down a smile.

One of the professors rose from his seat and turned to the crowd, declaring in a booming voice, "Hello! Thank you all for coming today. We ask that you please be seated now and end all side conversations so Mr. Oak may begin."

His request quickly quelled the noise, and those who were still standing shuffled to their seats. Gary took in a cleansing breath.

"Thank you, Dr. Bennes." Gary came out from behind his podium, ready. "Hello, for you unfamiliar faces in the room, my name is Gary Oak, and I'm a master's student in the paleontology program at Viridian University," he began, introducing himself. "Last year, I studied abroad at Mauville University in Hoenn after researchers discovered multiple Root Fossils in the area. These fossils were revived into Lileep using Silph's technology, and that is when I and a team of other Pokémon researchers began studying them. This set of Lileep were of particular interest to us because two of the six revived were infected with an ancient virus strain unlike anything we see circulating among Pokémon today. This virus is the focus of my thesis."

He pressed his clicker, moving to the first slide: a profile photograph of a Lileep.

"To give some background: Lileep originally existed more than 100 million years ago on the ocean floor as a dual Water- and Grass-type," he explained. "Within in the past twenty years, using Silph's technology, we have successfully revived hundreds of fossils for many different ancient Pokémon. The modern, revived Lileep differs from its ancestors in that it is a Rock- and Grass-type, a limitation of the technology that is still in development. Yet, with successful breeding programs throughout the regions, we estimate there are approximately eighty living Lileep today, including the six revived in Hoenn last year.

"There was something intriguing about this particular set of Lileep, however, when the team I worked with began studying them. Two of the six were unusually aggressive for the species and were anxious to battle with each other and the other four Lileep. We already know from years of research that Pokémon genuinely enjoy battling and that it's common and healthy for Pokémon to want to engage in friendly battles with other Pokémon, even in the wild. But these two Lileep wanted to battle more often than what we consider normal. Over the span of fifteen days, our team counted how many times each Lileep—which we labeled A, B, C, D, E, and F—would proposition another Lileep for battle in one day. On average, Lileep A, B, C, and D—the four unaggressive Lileep—would want to battle once a day. The two aggressive Lileep, E and F, however, averaged five times a day.

"E and F were eventually separated from A, B, C, and D for individual study after E and F's aggression became cumbersome to the other four. It was during this time that a doctor on the team tested these Lileep and found they were, in fact, 'sick' with a virus unknown to modern Pokémon doctors. For lack of a formal name, I will call it Virus X. We believe E and F already carried Virus X when they were revived, and that this virus was revived with them."

He moved to the next slide, an artist's rendering of Virus X's structure. Tracey Sketchit's name was signed in the corner.

"In my personal observations," Gary continued, "I noted that Virus X was unusual in that it did not inhibit E and F, nor did it seem to cause either pain. Moreover, when I looked back at the team's notes from when we were counting how often the Lileep would proposition each other for a battle, I found that, without fail, E and F would win against A, B, C, and D every time they would battle. E and F were more evenly matched against one another. This could have been dismissed as more training simply yielding more victories—that is, since E and F would battle more often than A, B, C, and D, they were more experienced battlers, hence their perfect records against A, B, C, and D—but I wasn't so sure. So, I formed the hypothesis that it was Virus X that not only made E and F more aggressive, but also stronger than A, B, C, and D."

The next slide featured a table labeled "Willow's Base Attack Powers."

"In 1973, Pokémon Researcher Jonathon Willow published a paper titled, 'The Six Stats of Pokémon,' in which he divided Pokémon's power into six categories: Health, Attack, Defense, Special Attack, Special Defense, and Speed. Around the same time, he developed a measuring system for the attack power of different Pokémon moves. For example, we know that Tackle has a base attack power of 35, while Flamethrower has a base attack power of 95."

Gary pointed to the table as he said this; both examples were listed.

"Generally, the base attack power of moves does not change. Tackle will always have a base attack power of 35. Yet, Willow's six stats accounts for differences in the level of damage any given attack causes. The physical move Tackle, though it only has a base attack power of 35, has the potential to yield greater damage if the user has a high Attack stat. Similarly, an opponent may be more resistant to the damage caused by Tackle if it has a high Defense stat. Of course, there are also other factors like type advantage and disadvantages, as well as a Pokémon's Nature.

"So, to determine the stat value of Attack and Special Attack moves, Willow used he called a _Quietus Patella_, or 'neutral plate.' The neutral plate eliminates type advantages and disadvantages from the equation, and it has the Defense and Special Defense stat equivalent of 80. By letting a Pokémon attack the plate, we can determine its Attack or Special Attack stats using his formula.

"Of course, we acknowledge that Willow's formula is not perfect, as it cannot account for random factors that also go into the damage caused by a Pokémon attack, but most modern Pokémon researchers still recognize it as a way to effectively measure the Attack and Special Attack power of any given Pokémon. To begin testing my hypothesis that Virus X was the cause of E and F's increased effectiveness in battle, I used Wilson's neutral plates to determine the Attack and Special Attack power of the Lileep."

The next slide contained his results:

**Attack and Special Attack Calculations of Lileep (Test 1)**

**Lileep A**  
Attack: 42  
Sp. Attack: 57

**Lileep B**  
Attack: 43  
Sp. Attack: 49

**Lileep C**  
Attack: 39  
Sp. Attack: 55

**Lileep D**  
Attack: 43  
Sp. Attack: 52

**Lileep E**  
Attack: 62  
Sp. Attack: 71

**Lileep F**  
Attack: 59  
Sp. Attack: 75

"All six Lileep knew the Attack move, Astonish, and the Special Attack move, Energy Ball," Gary went on. "By using the neutral plates and allowing each of the six Lileep to attack it with Astonish, I was able to calculate the Attack stat of each Pokémon. I was able to do the same with the Special Attack stat with the Lileep's Energy Ball. Astoundingly, the divide in stats between the uninfected A, B, C, and D Lileep and the infected E and F Lileep was huge. The range for the Attack stat was 23, while the range for the Special Attack stat was 26.

"My next step was then to determine whether it was Virus X causing this increased power in E and F, or if it was merely by virtue of them battling more. To do this, I obtained permission to purposefully infect Lileep A with Virus X and observe its behavioral changes as well as any increase in its Attack and Special Attack stats. Amazingly, after only one day of testing positive for Virus X, Lileep A began showing similar aggressiveness to E and F when we first began our research. As before, it began challenging the other Pokémon to battles more often. We immediately isolated A to deprive it of the opportunity of battling and thereby close off the possibility that stat changes were caused by greater experience gained from more battles, and not by Virus X. After one week, I tested all six Lileep again and calculated their stats.

A second set of results appeared on the slide:

**Attack and Special Attack Calculations of Lileep (Test 2)**

**Lileep A**  
Attack: 58 (+16)  
Sp. Attack: 69 (+12)

**Lileep B**  
Attack: 43 (+0)  
Sp. Attack: 49 (+0)

**Lileep C**  
Attack: 39 (+0)  
Sp. Attack: 55 (+0)

**Lileep D**  
Attack: 43 (+0)  
Sp. Attack: 52 (+0)

**Lileep E**  
Attack: 63 (+1)  
Sp. Attack: 74 (+3)

**Lileep F**  
Attack: 63 (+4)  
Sp. Attack: 75 (+0)

"The amount of growth Lileep A showed after being infected with the virus was simply unfathomable," Gary said. "It grew a combined total of _28 points_ in Attack and Special Attack after only one week of testing positive for Virus X. E and F also showed some minor growth, each gaining a combined total of 4 points. Meanwhile, the unaffected Lileep B, C, and D showed no growth.

"I was amazed, as were my colleagues. I had to see if my results could be replicated. I again obtained permission to purposefully infect one of the unafflicted Lileep with Virus X. After Lileep B tested positive for Virus X, it, just like A, began showing more aggressive behavior and was also isolated. After yet another additional week, I performed my final test using Willow's neutral plates:"

**Attack and Special Attack Calculations of Lileep (Test 3)**

**Lileep A**  
Attack: 60 (+2)  
Sp. Attack: 70 (+1)

**Lileep B**  
Attack: 55 (+12)  
Sp. Attack: 63 (+14)

**Lileep C**  
Attack: 39 (+0)  
Sp. Attack: 55 (+0)

**Lileep D**  
Attack: 43 (+0)  
Sp. Attack: 52 (+0)

**Lileep E**  
Attack: 64 (+1)  
Sp. Attack: 75 (+1)

**Lileep F**  
Attack: 63 (+0)  
Sp. Attack: 77 (+2)

"Yet again, the newly infected Lileep showed great growth; Lileep B gained a total of 26 points in its Attack and Special Attack stats. A, E, and F also showed growth, with E and F each gaining a total of 2 points and A gaining a total of 3. Once more, the unaffected C and D showed no growth. These results suggest that Virus X is indeed the cause of the increased aggression and and increased strength in the infected Lileep. After infection, the Lileep have a sharp spike in growth that quickly tapers off into small, but consistent growth. Growth for the unaffected, however, is slow in comparison.

The implications for a stat-increase 'virus' are incredible and could revolutionize the way we train and raise Pokémon. Although I have since left Mauville City in Hoenn, I am happy to report that the four infected Lileep, A; B; E; and F, are healthy, and their increased rate of growth has thus far shown no drawbacks. More research will need to conducted about the origins of the virus and how it is spread, and I hope to be a part of those projects."

Gary exhaled. He was nearing the end of his presentation.

"Thank you all for your time. I would like to now turn the time over to my thesis committee for questions," he concluded.

An applause broke, and Gary couldn't help but smile. He moved back to the podium and closed his PowerPoint before reaching for his water bottle. He had talked for quite a while. When he looked up, he saw the beaming face of his girlfriend, as well as his own grandfather. Everyone else seemed proud, too.

He set his water bottle down. Now came the hard part. He needed to answer his committee's questions.

Professor Bennes once again quieted the crowd. Gary stood in a suspended silence, waiting for the first one to speak.

"Might I say, Mr. Oak," Bill began, "that this research is simply amazing, and you should be quite proud of yourself. I daresay I haven't seen anything quite like this in my 20 years of research."

"Thank you, Dr. Blaustein," Gary said tacitly.

"I agree," the other professor, Dr. Yvette, added.

"As do I," Professor Bennes said. "I do, however, have some questions."

Gary nodded. He would have expected no less. Although Professor Bennes was one of his favorite professors at Viridian University, he was also one of his toughest.

"Fire away," Gary invited.

* * *

"It's going to be fine, Gary," Leaf assured him as they, plus the rest of the crowd who had come to see Gary present, stood waiting in the hallway.

The Q&amp;A session with the committee had lasted a little more than hour, less than average, and he wasn't sure whether that was a good or bad sign. Now the committee was meeting behind closed doors to determine one of four options: (A) Accept the thesis with no revisions; (B) Require minor revisions; (C) Require major revisions; (D) Reject the thesis and force him to withdraw from the program. Most of the people whom Gary hadn't known personally had left, leaving him with his closest supporters.

"In my head, I know you're right," Gary replied, "but it's still a little nerve-wracking."

"I can't imagine they'll do anything but pass you, Gary," his grandfather said.

"Yes," Professor Rowan added, stroking his chin. "I've seen many thesis defenses over time, and yours was exceptional."

"Yeah, they have to pass you," Ash jumped into the conversation. "You sounded really smart up there. I don't think I've ever heard you talk like that before."

"Did you even understand anything I said?" Gary asked, smirking.

"I got that, uh, Virus X makes Lileep stronger," Ash answered hopefully.

"Eh, that's all you really need to know." Gary shrugged.

The door the the classroom opened, and Dr. Yvette poked her head outside.

"Mr. Oak?" she inquired. "We're ready for you."

"Thank you, Dr. Yvette," he said, straightening.

She propped the door open and headed back to her seat in the front row. The crowd of supporters slowly trickled back into their seats, too, and Gary returned to the front of the classroom. As soon as everyone settled, Dr. Bennes was the first to speak.

"Mr. Oak," he began simply, "after consulting with Dr. Yvette and Dr. Blaustein, we have agreed to _pass_ your thesis—" A happy breath swept across the room, and Gary appeared relieved. "—with no revisions. Thank you for your hard work, and congratulations."

Gary's thanks to his committee was lost in the noise, as he was nearly rushed by his friends and family.

"Congratulations, Garebear," Leaf said, kissing his cheek.

"See, what I tell ya?" Ash teased. "I knew you were gonna pass!"

"Excellent work, Gary," Brock said, giving him a pat on the back.

"Yeah, you deserve it," Ritchie added.

"It's obvious you worked really hard," Misty said. "Congratulations."

"I didn't understand half of what you said, but yay! You passed!" Daisy beamed at him.

"That was amazing, Gary," Tracey complimented. "I'm so happy for you."

"Your parents would be so proud," Delia gushed.

"_I'm_ so proud," Professor Oak said.

Gary quickly grew overwhelmed by the warm attention, and he broke into a rare grin as he threw his arms over the shoulders of Leaf and Ash.

"Thank you all," he said. "Couldn't have done it without you guys. Really. Now, I haven't eaten since lunch, so I'm thinking we ought to find a nice restaurant in the area—one that serves alcohol." He pulled Ash closer to him, looking at him slyly. "I'll even let you and Misty come if you promise to stop being so weird around each other."

Misty glared, and Ash appeared flustered, but before either could respond, the group was approached by a stranger.

"Mr. Oak?" the stranger inquired, gaining Gary's attention. He was ghostly pale with blond hair that he had slicked back and amber, feline-like eyes. Gary dropped his arms back to his side, straightening up.

"Yes?" he responded.

"If you wouldn't mind, I would love to ask you a couple questions about your thesis that weren't addressed in the Q&amp;A session," the stranger said. "You see, I am also in Pokémon research. When I heard the grandson of the great Professor Oak was here tonight, I simply had to stop by, and I can't say I'm disappointed."

"Sure." Gary was surprised but willing. "What would you like to know?"

The stranger's lips curved into a sly kind of smile. Brock nudged Ash in the side and motioned for him and the others to follow him, to leave Gary and the stranger alone.

"At the end of your presentation," he began smoothly, "you said you felt Virus X had great potential for changing the way we raise Pokémon. How so?"

"Well..." Gary thought about his answer. "I elaborate on it more in the implications section of my written thesis, but I believe there's a lot of ways you could look at it. I think a lot of trainers would be very interested in something that could potentially boost their Pokémon's power. I also think it's a window to exploring how Pokémon grow and how they become stronger. My only concern is the aggression the Lileep showed while infected. They were less manageable than the 'healthy' Lileep. The impact of Virus X on the relationship between humans and Pokémon still needs to be researched, as does the aggression itself and why Virus X causes the aggression."

"You don't know why Virus X causes the aggression?" the stranger asked.

"At this point, no," Gary answered. "We're not entirely sure why Virus X causes the sharp growth in stats, either, just that it does. It's not be the first viral pathogen to modify the behavior of its host, but it is the first to _strengthen_ the host. I am optimistic, though, since the Lileep showed no signs of pain."

"Another question: How is it that Lileep E and F were able to A, B, C and D at the beginning of your research without infecting one another?" the stranger asked.

"We still are foggy about how the virus spreads without our intervention. One theory is that the viral pathogen increasing the host's aggression is the pathogen's method of spreading. More battles means increased physical contact and therefore increased chance for spreading. Shot in the dark, it may simply be that the physical build of Lileep hinders the ability to spread."

"What do you mean?"

"No teeth, no infected bite wounds." Gary shrugged. "Lileep prey on others using their tentacles, and those tentacles may be ineffective in the spread of Virus X. I personally don't think Virus X is endemic to Lileep; it could very well affect other Pokémon or even humans, hence the interest in the stat-boosting abilities of Virus X as potentially marketable on a large scale."

"Virus X is zoonotic?"

"It's an untested hypothesis," Gary clarified. "The low spreadability of Virus X among Lileep without intervention, however, suggests that Virus X came from another species, which would make it zoonotic."

"Interesting..." the stranger mused. "Then, you do believe that if a Pokémon today were infected with Virus X, it would experience the same growth in stats?"

Gary flinched.

"Well, possibly, but I should make it clear that Virus X should not be tested on modern Pokémon yet," he said. "If Virus X was indeed revived along with Lileep, that means it would be more than 100 million years old, too. We really don't have any idea how the immune system of a modern Pokémon would handle Virus X. We want to learn what in Virus X causes the stat boosts and apply that to modern Pokémon, not infect modern Pokémon with Virus X. The Lileep have the contemporary immunity for it; modern Pokémon don't."

"I see. Thank you," the stranger said. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry; I was so caught up in asking you questions that I failed to introduce myself. My name is Elijah. As I said before, I'm in the field of Pokémon research, like you. I work for an organization called SAMPLe."

"SAMPLe?"

"It's a Pokémon welfare organization," Elijah elaborated. "At SAMPLe, we adhere to the three Rs: Rescue, Rehabilitate, and Research. We rescue injured Pokémon, both in the wild and from abusive trainers, and nurse them to health. We also conduct extensive research about the rehabilitation of Pokémon. I specialize in researching how to bring out the true power of Pokémon in our rehabilitation efforts, hence my interest in your thesis."

"Wow, sounds great," Gary replied. "I have to admit, I've never heard of it before."

"We're a start-up. We're still working on obtaining more funding for our research."

"Well, good luck."

"Thank you, Mr. Oak." Elijah bowed his head slightly, before reaching to shake Gary's hand. "Best of luck to you, too. And congratulations."

After Elijah left, Leaf returned to retrieve her boyfriend.

"So are you still up for dinner, or are you going to spending the entire night here basking in your success?" she asked.

He smirked and replied, "Please, I'm going to be basking in success all night anyway. I would prefer if I did it over dinner, though, especially if there's a side of Leafy Greens later on in the evening."

"Shut up."

_**May 8th, 2009. Late Evening. Opelucid City.**_

"What're you working on?" Iris asked as she slid into bed next to Cilan, who had his computer out and open on his lap. Paul had only left perhaps an hour earlier, after they had hammered out some of the logistics for the new Unovan branch of the G-Men. Cilan had stopped by to greet her when he arrived home, and he also brought them dinner, but he otherwise left them undisturbed.

"A couple minor readjustments to the syllabus," he answered. "Burgundy agreed to let me print her number on it."

"Oh, that's right—how did your meeting go?" she asked.

"As you might expect," Cilan replied truthfully. "She's very upset."

"I would be, too, if I were her."

Cilan said nothing in response, leaving the conversation hanging. Iris rolled her eyes before stretching her legs out, laying on her side, and propping her head up on the palm of her hand. It wasn't long before Cilan noticed her lazy, half-lidded gaze.

"Don't give me that look," he said, without turning his head.

"What look?" Iris asked innocently, rolling over to lay on her belly. She lifted her legs up at the knees and crossed them at the ankles.

"You know very well what I mean," he replied, now looking at her. "Iris, it's past 10 p.m."

"So what? You'd stay up 'till 1 a.m. working if I didn't stop you." She lowered her voice and flirtatiously added, "Besides, I expect better of you. What gentleman would ever refuse his lady pleasure?"

Cilan let out a quick breath of disbelief, but his lips twitched into a smile. He abruptly shut his laptop and placed it on his nightstand. He then pulled off his glasses and also set them aside. Iris watched this unfold with a satisfied expression, lacing her fingers together and resting her chin on them. She sat up when he turned toward her again, laying his hands on top of hers and greeting her with a long, drawn-out kiss.

"You know, Ms. Ajagara," he began after breaking away, leaning his forehead against hers, "for someone who claims they do not have a way with words, you are quite convincing."

"Well, it probably helps that this is a mutually beneficial tryst."

He laughed and raised a hand to her shoulder as he pressed his lips to her neck, just beneath her jawline. Iris's breath hitched; he knew her well.

"That it does," he murmured against her skin. He moved to kiss her again, and she matched his efforts. Her hands trailed down the sides of his face before her arms wound around his neck, and she pulled him closer to her.

* * *

"Oh, look at this one!" Dawn exclaimed, picking up her laptop from the hotel room's desk and moving toward Paul. She sat next to him on the bed, and he cast her screen a glance to humor her. He quickly returned to his work on his own laptop, however.

"It's a three-month lease, renewable, and rent is $800 per month," Dawn continued. "It's not that far from the Opelucid City Gym, either. Definitely within walking distance."

"Sounds great," Paul mumbled. "The last three you showed me all sounded great, too."

"I'm just trying to explore our options," Dawn said tacitly. "I would love to hear more input from you."

"Go with the one you just suggested, then," Paul said. "It'll save cab fare."

Dawn breathed out. She supposed she shouldn't have expected much.

"Okay," she said. "I'll call the landlord tomorrow morning and say we're interested."

She saved the listing in her bookmarks before shutting her laptop down. She stood up again and stored it in her bag back on the desk. She then turned to face Paul, who was still typing, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Are you all right?" she asked, folding her arms.

"I don't see why I wouldn't be."

"You seem very stressed."

"_No_."

"There's no need to get sarcastic." She sat beside him on the bed once more. "I'm just concerned, that's all. You... like to have things under control. You work and train hard to make sure you have things under control, and when things go awry like they did at Iris's inauguration, you get really stressed out."

"Your point?"

"I just..." She moved closer to him and hesitated before reaching to touch his shoulder. "I think you need to take a moment to breathe."

Paul stopped, their gazes connecting as her fingers moved to trail down his spine. Then, he opened his mouth and said, "Not tonight, Dawn."

Dawn pulled her hand away.

"Well," she began calmly, though there was disappointment evident in her tone, "it was just a suggestion." She paused before adding, "Don't stay up too late. I hate to see you drive yourself into the ground."

She turned the light off on her side of the bed and slipped beneath the covers. Paul watched her for a long moment before shutting his laptop, setting it on the ground, and turning off his light. Yet, he flipped on his side, away from her, when he laid down. Dawn sighed inaudibly, closed her eyes, and raised a hand to rub her temple.

_**May 9th, 2009. Middle of the night. New Bark Town.**_

Lyra jerked awake when she heard a noise downstairs, and her breath caught. She threw her sheets off her and quickly slipped into her night robe before hurrying down the stairs of her apartment. Her living room was empty, so she moved onto the kitchen. Sure enough, Silver was there, pouring himself a glass of ice water.

Her first instinct was to throw her arms around him, to tell him how much she had missed him. She stopped herself, however, and the moment of restraint cleared away her affections and let the anger beneath her skin simmer.

"You know, it would be super nice if you would give me a heads up when you plan on disappearing for months on end," she said, her voice strained. Silver snapped his head up.

"Oh. Sorry," he apologized. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't mean to wa-" She stopped short, flabbergasted. "Silver, where've you been?"

"Why is it important you know?" Silver brushed past her, heading into the living room.

"I think it would be a courtesy to tell me, since you're in my apartment," Lyra retorted, following him.

He sat down on the sofa, but Lyra held her ground, waiting for an answer. Finally, he said, "I went to watch the Kanto League."

"The Kanto League?"

"Yes."

"Why would you want to go see the Kanto League?"

"I have my reasons."

Lyra frowned, figuring it would be a vain pursuit to learn why he was interested in attending the event. Besides, she knew she could only stick with one inquiry at a time.

"In any case," she continued, "the Kanto League was two weeks ago. You've been away for much, much longer. What were you doing before then?"

"You know I can't stay in one place," he replied simply.

"I don't understand." Lyra shook her head. "You said Team Rocket was the problem. You said you had done something to anger them. But they're gone now. Their leader is in jail; Team Rocket has been gone for years."

"That's not true."

"How isn't it?"

"It's complicated."

"I'm not stupid, Silver. If you would just explain..." She trailed off, and Silver raised his eyebrows as he took a drink of his water. She started again, "If you know something, if you know that Team Rocket is still out there... you should tell someone. The G-Men."

He set his glass down on the coffee table, next to a days-old newspaper.

"I am _not_ talking to the G-Men," he said firmly.

Lyra was taken aback by his reaction. He sounded like he had a personal grievance with the organization, though this would be the first she had heard of it. As she wondered what to say next, Silver became intrigued by the front page headline on the newspaper. He picked it up, squinting at the print in the unlit room.

"... Someone tried to assassinate Iris Ajagara?" he inquired.

"Oh, yeah." She finally sat down, on a nearby armchair. "I guess you wouldn't have heard, since you were traveling. There were shots fired at her inauguration. Everyone'e fine, and the guy, a grunt from Team Plasma, is under arrest, but still really scary..."

"From Team Plasma?"

"Mhm," Lyra hummed. "It's an extremist group in Unova."

Silver was silent for a long moment. He carefully laid the paper back on the table.

"... Why didn't you at least tell me you were leaving?" Lyra asked quietly after a moment. "I worry about you, you know."

"I didn't want you to follow me."

"I don't know if I can accept that anymore. I'm so tired of you shutting me out of everything and expecting me to just be okay with that. I know we all have things we like to keep private, but... an absence of truth is lying, too, and I _hate_ being lied to."

He said nothing again, averting his eyes. Lyra folded her arms, frowning.

"How long are you going to stay this time?" she asked, almost bitterly.

"Can't say," he said, his eyes flicking toward the newspaper.

"If you're going to drop into my life again and live here, then I think I ought to know for how long."

"What, do you want me to pay rent?"

"_Maybe_," Lyra huffed. "I don't mind friends living here if they need a place to stay, but I'm not so sure about you."

"I can go to the Pokémon Center if you'd prefer."

"You missed my point," she sighed. "... At least promise you'll tell me how long you'll be gone when you leave again?"

Silver retrieved his water.

"Fine," he agreed.

Lyra fixed her gaze upon him. His behavior had always come off as odd because he was so secretive. He had revealed things to her before in vague sentiments, in undetailed stories that never satisfied her desire to know him. Tonight only reaffirmed that there was much, much more he hadn't told her.

.

.

_Credit to Undercityrezident for the use of his character, Gerard Poltiere._


	4. III: In Which Ritchie Resists His Role

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.

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Chapter III: In Which Ritchie Resists His Role

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_**May 19th, 2009. Morning. Opelucid City.**_

"All right, Haxorous, use Giga Impact!" Iris ordered, standing several yards removed from the middle of the battle between her Haxorous and Dragonite.

Haxorous stomped its feet in anticipation as it became engulfed in an orange energy before launching at Dragonite. Dragonite braced itself and held its arms out to catch Haxorous's blades. Dragonite was sure to grab the dull edge that dipped into Haxorous's face. He had the mistake of grabbing the sharp sides once, and he didn't intend to do it again.

Dragonite skidded back a few feet when he stopped Haxorous from making full-body contact, but the orange aura didn't break. Dragonite gritted its teeth and tried to push back, but Haxorous overpowered him, and Dragonite fell back into the dust.

"Nice work, Haxorous," Iris commended before looking toward her fallen Dragonite. "Are you all right, Dragonite?"

Dragonite grunted but sat up, giving her a thumbs-up. Iris smiled, relieved. They were on the first floor battlefield where she and Drayden used to hold gym matches. Yet, since her inauguration, the gym had become the office of the Unova Champion, and so the battlefield was now her training grounds.

"Ms. Ajagara?" Iris perked up and turned to see one of Paul's agents approaching. He, along with several other agents, had been on-guard at her gym since the incident.

"Hello Cole, or, um, Agent Murray." Iris stumbled over her words. "Sorry. Paul calls you Cole, but Leaf calls you Agent Murray, so I'm not sure which is the right way for me to address you."

His stoic expression broke as his lips twitched into a smile.

"Either is fine, Ms. Ajagara."

"Then I'll call you Cole, too, if you don't mind," Iris said. "What do you need?"

"There is someone here who wants to speak with you," he informed her.

"Who?"

"Grimsley Astor."

"Oh!" Iris's eyebrows shot up with surprise. "Grimsely's here? Well, sure, we can talk."

Agent Murray nodded before saying, "I'll bring him in."

As he left, Iris retrieved her Pokéballs and turned to Haxorous and Dragonite.

"Return, both of you," she said, recalling them. As she stored them away, Agent Murray returned with Grimsely in tow.

"Hello, Grimsley," Iris greeted with a smile. "I didn't expect to see you today."

"Good morning, Ms. Ajagara," he politely replied. "I tried to call ahead, but the line was disconnected."

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Iris pressed the palm of her hand to her face. "My husband cut off our phone after the inauguration, because we were getting too many calls..."

"Understandable," Grimsley said. "If it's no problem, I would like to speak with you privately. I heard you begin interviewing today to find a chief for your new G-Men branch, so I understand if you're busy."

"It's no problem at all," Iris dismissed. "No one's coming in until noon. I was just doing some training now, to clear my mind. I've never really... hired anyone for anything before, so I'm not sure what to expect!"

Grimsley said nothing in response. Iris frowned and pushed her hair behind her ear, now sensing some tension in the air.

"Well," she continued, after clearing her throat, "we can head up to Dray—er, my office, if you'd like. I guess it would be better to discuss things there rather than on a dusty battlefield."

Grimsley nodded and said, "That would be nice. Thank you, Ms. Ajagara."

* * *

Burgundy kept a wary eye on the classroom clock, counting the minutes that passed by. It was only a little after 10 a.m., and young C-Class students were beginning to filter into the room and fill the rows of tables. Cilan was at the computer, going through his email to retrieve his notes for class that day. When he finished, he pulled off his glasses and dropped them into the front pocket of his vest before moving to meet his students. Burgundy watched, but held back.

"Good morning," Cilan greeted a young brunette sitting at the front.

"Ah... morning," she shyly replied.

"What's your name?"

"Karina," she answered.

"Karina Valdis?" he inquired, and she nodded. "You prefer Karina, though?"

"Yes, please."

"How old are you, Karina?"

"13," she answered.

"Ah, so you applied to get into the PCA as soon as you were eligible?" Cilan asked.

"Mhm," Karina hummed. "When I turned 10, my parents wouldn't let me go on a journey, but they still got me a Pokémon. While on a family trip to Nimbasa City, though, I met a Pokémon Connoisseur, and he gave me and my Pokémon an evaluation and talked a lot about how close we were. It was a cool experience, and when I heard there was a PCA campus in Nimbasa, I decided to check it out. I learned that you had to be 12 to apply, though, so I waited, and I ended up coming to the Opelucid campus instead, because it's a lot closer to home."

"Is this your second semester at the C-Class rank, then?"

"Yes."

"And how have you liked it so far?"

"I _love_ it." She smiled, her face brightening as she spoke. "My parents were skeptical at first, but they're really supportive now that they see how much I enjoy it. It's definitely something I want to stick with. I'd like to be an S-Class Connoisseuse someday."

Cilan chuckled before saying, "Well, I'm certain you'll achieve your goal with your determination, Karina. Ms. Myers—" Cilan gestured to Burgundy, and she straightened up in surprise. "—and I will do our best to equip you with the skills you need to advance to the B-Rank in this class, and I hope it's as enjoyable to you as your past classes."

Karina inclined her head, still smiling.

"Thank you, Professor Griffith." She seemed less nervous now. Cilan perked up when his phone began vibrating in his front pant pocket, and he plucked it out to see who was calling. He raised his eyebrows when he realized it was Iris.

"Pardon me, but I have to take this call," he said, addressing Burgundy. "Please, feel free to acquaint yourself with the students. I'll be back before class begins at 10:15."

Cilan headed down the aisle and out the classroom door before answering his phone.

"Iris?" he inquired. "Is something wrong?"

"_Grimsley quit._"

"What?"

"_Grimsely turned in his letter of resignation this morning_." There was a slight waver in her voice.

"Why?"

"_I, ugh..._" A short pause followed as Iris took in a breath. "_He's not happy about Unova getting a G-Men unit. He said Elite Four members need to support their Champion, but he can't support me in this, so he's decided to resign_."

Cilan sighed. He leaned against the wall and stayed silent for a long moment, processing this information and considering how he should respond.

"Well, he's not wrong. An Elite Four member should be supportive of his or her Champion," he finally said. "So, he's actually doing you a favor by leaving."

"_I didn't want this to happen_."

"I know," Cilan reassured her. "No one would. But, Grimsley has the right to disagree with you and resign. That's his issue, not yours. Have you spoken with anyone else yet?"

"_No. I called you first_. _I don't know what to do. I already have to find a chief for this new G-Men branch, and now I have to find a new Elite Four member._"

"Iris, please, calm down," Cilan said evenly. "The Unova League isn't until September. You have plenty of time to find an Elite Four member, and I think you'll do so quicker than you imagine. What you should do now is talk to Paul and get in contact with Wallace to inquire about the PR that goes into a Elite Four member resigning. After that, you might want to consult with Alder and Drayden; I'm sure both would have good ideas as to who could replace Grimsley. You could also call Leaf to get her insight, too. Isn't Paul helping you today?"

"_Yes. Paul will be around,_" Iris answered. "_I'm sorry. I guess I kind of panicked. I just didn't expect this._"

"I wouldn't have either. Just take a couple minutes to breathe, and then do what you need to do." He paused. "I need to get class started. I'll be home in a couple hours, and you'll have started interviews by then."

"_Right... Sorry for pulling you away from students. Love you._"

"I love you, too. I'll see you soon."

He hung up and turned off his phone before entering the classroom once more.

"Good morning," he greeted his students brightly as he moved back toward the front.

* * *

"So do you have a place to stay, yet?" Drew asked politely as he pulled into a parking space near an apartment complex.

"Yes," his passenger, Ursula, answered as she unbuckled her seat belt. "I signed a lease this morning, and I'm moving in tomorrow."

It had been more than a week since Drew had made the calls to hire for what Kenny had now dubbed the Contests in Unova campaign, or CIU. Only now were his staff beginning to trickle into Unova from the other four regions, however. Aside from his close circle of friends already in Unova, Ursula was the second staffer to arrive, having flown in from Sinnoh yesterday. He had picked her up from her hotel that morning.

"Do you need help with that?" Drew asked, stepping out of the car.

"No," Ursula refused, waving her hand. "I don't need anyone's help. I have the means to pay for a bellboy to carry my suitcases down to a cab tomorrow, and my lovely Garchomp will help me take it all inside and unpack."

"Good... to hear it."

Ursula retrieved her purse, following Drew's lead.

"So what are we here for, anyway?" she asked as they began heading up a set of stairs.

"This is where May's and my apartment is," Drew answered. "It's our temporary meeting place for the campaign, until we can rent some office space. I know May has been calling around today to see what's available."

"This is same May whom you secretly married in the last issue of Coordinators Weekly?"

"That's her," Drew affirmed. "Coordinators Weekly reported that?"

"Oh yes." Ursula smiled wryly. "Apparently, you proposed spur of the moment while 'vacationing' in Unova, no ring, no prepared speech, and were married on the same day."

"Sounds romantic," Drew said dryly. "Sorry to disappoint, but May and I are not married. Coordinators Weekly likes to default to speculation about May's and my relationship when it's not dragging trainers' names through the mud."

"I figured as much," Ursula replied lightly. "Just having some fun."

Drew raised an eyebrow as he inserted his key into his apartment door. He wasn't sure what to make of Ursula yet. They had initially met seven years earlier in Johto, while on he and his friends were on their 'adventure' toward Sinnoh. She had helped them stow away on a boat to Chocovine Town, but she had done so while exchanging catty remarks with both Dawn and Leaf. He supposed he was grateful for her help, but he was wary of the attitude he'd seen in action at several contests and Grand Festivals since then, especially around Dawn. He was hoping Contesta's recommendation proved fruitful.

He unlocked the door and pushed it open, inviting Ursula inside. They found their group in the living room, laptops out as they lounged on sofas and sprawled out on the floor. Dawn's Piplup was laying on top of a pillow near Dawn's feet, snoozing.

"Hello everyone," Drew greeted, "I'd like to introduce you to Ursula Schoenberg, our Social Media Manager. I think you all know each other already—with the exception of Conway, who's our Chief Technology Officer."

Conway, who was seated in one of the armchairs, adjusted his glasses and, with a smirk, said, "Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Schoenberg."

"Uh... right..." Ursula drawled.

"So, has anything important been accomplished since I've been gone?" Drew asked.

"I purchased a URL," Conway answered. "The 'Contestsinunova' address was available. I'll be able to start building the website now."

"Great. Anything else?"

"Oh!" May raised her hand.

"May, you don't have to raise your hand."

"I found office space." May dropped her hand back to her side. "I called and scheduled a tour with the guy in an hour. So... we should probably leave really soon, actually!"

"Then you should get dressed," Drew said, amused.

"Hm? Oh, yeah, I should!" May looked down at herself and realized her outfit could have qualified as pajamas. She set her laptop down and jumped up. "Okay, I'll get ready as soon as I can!"

He watched her as she went down the hallway and into their bedroom. He shook his head with a smile and picked up her laptop, trying to find where exactly this office space was and how to get there. He didn't trust May to give directions.

"On the note of important things accomplished," Barry suddenly began, looking proud. "I'd like to announce that I just got ordained to perform weddings through this website."

"You can do that?" Drew asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Yup! All I gotta do is print my certificate," Barry replied.

"Huh," Kenny mused. He looked up from his laptop, grinning. "What do you know? I guess gay people really are ruining the sanctity of marriage."

Barry picked up a nearby throw pillow and aimed it at Kenny's head, but he dodged, laughing.

"You know, I'm really curious what marriage ordination has to do with public outreach and marketing," Zoey asked dryly.

"Hey, we're not trying to be lazy," Barry said, putting his hands up defensively. "It's just, there's not much for us to do right now with no events and things to advertise."

"You could always help me out," Dawn suggested. "I have my plate full right now."

"Ah-ha," Ursula cut into the conversation, swaying toward where Dawn was situated, "I thought you might be a part of this campaign, since you're in the same conspiracy club as Drew. So, what's your role in this whole thing?"

Drew paused to watch, to see how Dawn would handle herself. Piplup, meanwhile, lifted his head. Ursula's familiar voice had risen him from his nap, and he jumped up beside Dawn on the sofa and pointed at her accusingly.

"Piplu-" Before he could launch into an unintelligible tirade, Dawn pushed her hand over his beak, shutting him up.

"Well... I'm the Chief Scheduling and Advance Coordinator," she explained calmly. "Right now, I'm trying to find a venue where we can host a Q&amp;A session with a panel of Top Coordinators."

"Have you called the Opelucid Don George Battle Club?" Drew asked.

"The battle club?" Dawn dropped her hand, and Piplup plopped down and folded his flippers, pouting.

"One of Ash's friends works for it, and Contesta and I were hoping we would strike a partnership with them in hosting contests and sharing profits," Drew explained. "If that works out, then maybe they would be willing to offer their building for the Q&amp;A event."

"A battle club as a venue?" Zoey sounded doubtful.

"Who knows?" Kenny jumped into the conversation. "Maybe if we did make it work, we could have, like, the panelists use the field to show off some appeals prior to the questions starting."

"Not a bad idea," Conway added. "The title 'Top Coordinator' won't mean anything to Unovans in attendance unless they see them in action. Most of them have probably never seen a live contest before."

"_And_ this is why I hired all of you." Drew closed May's laptop. "If you'd like, Ursula, you can join Barry and Kenny in helping Dawn. Otherwise, there also isn't much you can do right now, aside from making the CIU's social media profiles."

"Will do, Andrew," she said.

"Just Drew, please."

Just then, May came back out from the bedroom, now wearing a dress and a touch of make-up. Drew smiled as he rose to his feet and approached her.

"You look nice," he said, pecking her on the cheek.

"Thanks." May beamed. "Are you ready to go?"

"I think so. I looked on your computer—it's the place near McAnnon and 3rd Street?" Drew asked.

"That's it!"

"Then we're ready to go." He looked toward the rest of the group. "Anyone else interested in coming along?"

The others exchanged quick glances before Dawn answered, "I think we're good. I'll text Ash and ask him about his friend. Do you know his or her name?"

"It's Stephen, I think," Drew said. "Good luck. We'll see you guys later."

As soon as they had left, Ursula smirked and looked at the others before remarking, "Wow, he sure is whipped."

"Yeah, welcome to spending time with May and Drew," Kenny chuckled.

_**May 19th, 2009. Late Morning. Pallet Town.**_

"I really don't think you have anything to worry about, Ash," Gary said as he, Ritchie, and Ash headed back into Ash's home. "You're basically as good as you're gonna get before your matches with the Elite Four begin. Stop stressing."

Gary and Ash had just finished a battle that Ash, perhaps unsurprisingly, won. Ritchie was the referee as usual. Ash had dove straight back into training after arriving back in Kanto from Unova last week. He wanted to be prepared, and it was possibly the most focused Ritchie and Gary had ever seen him. Then again, both suspected Ash throwing himself into training full-throttle was his way of keeping his awkward relationship with Misty off his mind.

"I know," Ash agreed, rubbing the back of his head. "I guess I just don't wanna have any regrets. I don't wanna let down my Pokémon, and then look back and say I could've worked harder."

Pikachu's ears perked up when he noticed that the screen of his trainer's phone was bright with a new message. He jumped onto the table and picked it up.

"Pikapi!" he said, holding it out toward his trainer.

"Oh?" Ash accepted his phone, staring at it with a bemused expression.

"What is it?" Ritchie inquired.

"Nothing, really. Dawn just texted me asking for a friend's number." Ash opened up his phone's keypad and starting pecking at the letters with his index finger. He was a notoriously slow texter.

Just then, Ritchie's own phone began buzzing.

"Speaking of phones..." he mumbled, checking the caller ID—Trip—before picking up. "Hey, what's up?"

"_Is Gary with you?_"

Ritchie furrowed his eyebrows, confused. He cast Gary a quick glance, and the researcher straightened up in response.

"Yeah, he's here," Ricthie answered.

"Who is it?" Gary asked.

"It's Trip." Ritchie placed his hand over the receiver to answer Gary's question before returning to his call. "Why do you ask?"

"_I tried to call him, but he didn't pick up, so I assumed he was with you and Ash,_" Trip explained in brief. "_Did any of you hear that there was_ _a Lileep stolen from Mauville University in the middle of the night? Isn't that where Gary did his study abroad semester last year?_"

"Wha-? It is!"

"_I thought so._"

"What's happening, Ritchie?" Ash was curious now, too.

"One of the Lileep from Mauville University was stolen," Ritchie replied.

"What?!" Gary immediately headed for his bag sitting on the table and picked out his phone. He had missed several calls during his battle with Ash, one of which was indeed from Trip. He ignored them and opened up his browser.

"You still there?" Ritchie asked, lifting his phone to his ear again.

"_Mhm,_" Trip hummed. "_Anyway, I wasn't sure whether Gary knew about it or not, so that's why I called._"

"Well... thanks for giving us the news." Ritchie's eyes drifted toward Ash and Gary, who were now both hunched over Gary's phone. "I guess we'll talk to you later."

"_Yeah. See you._"

As soon as Ritchie hung up, Gary said, "I can't believe it. It's true. The student newspaper for Mauville University is reporting that someone broke into the lab in the early hours of the morning and took one of the Lileep."

"Are these the same Lileep that you talked about in your thesis?" Ash asked.

"Same ones." Gary frowned. "How did Trip find out about it, anyway? It doesn't look like it's been picked up by any of the major news outlets outside Hoenn, yet."

"Trip keeps a really good pulse on the media," Ritchie answered, "so I'm sure he stumbled across an article online or something."

"That's awful, though," Ash said. "That poor Lileep. It's probably missing its friends..."

Gary sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. He closed the browser and checked his missed calls.

"Well, I guess I ought to respond to these," he said. "Most of them are my former colleagues, probably wanting to tell me about it. Maybe they'll know more."

He stood up and left the room, dialing the first of the list. Ritchie and Ash exchanged uneasy glances.

_**May 19th, 2009. Late Morning. Indigo Plateau.**_

"Madam Champion!"

As soon as Leaf heard the voice, a silent "oh no" passed through her lips and a less savory version of the phrase passed through her mind. She had left her office to retrieve a bottle of water from a vending machine on the first floor, a decision she now regretted. She straightened up and slowly turned to face Charles Goodshow, the long-time general manager of the Napajian League's conferences, as he jogged toward her. He was the person in charge of putting together the actual events and had done so for three generations of Champions.

"Hello, Mr. Goodshow," Leaf greeted, unexcited to see the aged man.

"I've been looking for you all morning, Madam Champion," Charles said, half-chastising her.

"You know, that's funny, because I've been avoiding you all morning."

He appeared exasperated.

"Madam Champion, have you decided who you want to referee the Elite Four matches next week?" he asked.

"No."

"Do you at least have any ideas?"

"No."

"Well, I have some ideas!"

"I don't care."

Leaf brushed past him. He let out a long sigh and mumbled "And I once thought Lance was hard to work with—pah!" under his breath before following her.

"Madam Champion," he began evenly after catching up, "I understand your frustration. I really do. You have one of the most difficult jobs in the world being a leader to our nation, and I try my best to ease your and the other Champions' burden by taking caring of the logistics of the league conferences. I realize the Silver Conference was not up to par with the behavior of the referee during your match, and for that I apologize. But we're pushing on the deadline! Mr. Ketchum's first match is next Monday! I need a referee in line."

Leaf let out a huff as she stopped and turned to face him.

"When is the absolute latest I can give you a name for a referee?" she asked.

"It would have been nice to know yester-"

"Absolute _latest_," Leaf emphasized.

Charles scrunched his face, his mustache twitching as he thought.

"Friday," he finally decided.

"Then I will have picked a referee by Friday. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting with my Elite Four that I need to get to," Leaf said, turning away from him. "And stop calling me 'Madam.' I'm 22, not 40."

"Noted, Ms. Greene."

As Leaf continued on her way, she unscrewed the cap on the water bottle she purchased and tossed it into a nearby trash can. Just as she lifted the bottle to her lips, however, her phone began ringing. She lowered the bottle again with a frown and reached into her pocket to retrieve the device. She scowled when she saw who was calling.

"What do you want?" she said, picking it up.

"_I find it interesting that you complain about how I never call and then greet me like that when I do,_" Paul responded dryly.

"Sorry. I just escaped a conversation with Charles Goodshow, and now I'm in a bad mood."

"_Mm. Well, I've got great news._"

"I sense some sarcasm, so by great news, I'm assuming you mean terrible news."

"_Grimsely resigned because he's mad about Iris starting up the G-Men in Unova, or so he says._"

"Oh," Leaf said flatly. "Could be worse."

"_She's very upset._"

"Of course she is. She didn't want the G-Men there in the first place." She paused. "Have you released a statement yet?"

"_Iris already talked to Wallace, and he offered to do it._"

"Then what are you talking to me for?"

"_Just to keep you updated._"

"Well, that's unexpectedly nice of you." Leaf finally took a drink of her water. "Why didn't Iris tell me herself? As much as I like hearing your voice every now and then, I'd like to hear from her, too."

"_She's doing interviews right now._"

"Oh, that's right. I forgot that was happening today," Leaf mused. "Is there anything you need from me? I have to meet with my Elite Four in a couple minutes."

"_Iris wanted me to ask you what she should look for in an Elite Four candidate._"

"Someone who can disagree with you and not quit."

"_I'll let her know. Good luck with your meeting._"

"Paul?" Leaf asked, just as he was about to hang up.

"_Yes?_"

"Thank you for calling me. I'm sorry for snapping at you."

"_... I'll talk to you later._"

Leaf smiled and shook her head when he hung up. She slid her phone back into her pocket and ascended the stairway, to the second floor where her office was located. The door was open, and she was surprised (and pleased) to see that Misty, Karen, Will and Lorelei were already there.

"Sorry for arriving late," she apologized, shutting the door behind her. "I got held up."

"It's no inconvenience, Ms. Greene," Will said genially. "You're right on time."

"Thank you, Will." Leaf pulled a chair from against the wall, up toward the coffee table around which her Elite Four members sat. The chair was familiar to her; it was the same upon which she used to sit when she was 11-years-old, spending time with Lance in his (now her) office.

"I want to make this short, so all of you can continue going about your day," she began, sitting down. "There's no hiding the fact that Ash and I are friends. In fact, there's no hiding that Misty and Ash are friends. Let me make it clear that I don't want this to change anything come the first match on Monday. Misty and I have done our part in keeping with the impartiality clause these past few weeks, so Ash can have a fair match with the four of you and, if comes to it, me. I want you to do your part, too; don't go 'easier' or 'harder' on him because he's our friend."

"What is the order in which Mr. Ketchum is challenging us?" Lorelei inquired.

"Monday is Will. Tuesday, Karen. Wednesday is you, Lorelei. And finally, Thursday is Misty," Leaf answered. "Of course, you all understand that if at any point Ash loses a match, the challenge will end."

"Half-relevant question, but did Mr. Goodshow find you?" Karen asked. "He wanted to talk to you about a ref for said matches."

"Yes, he did." Leaf dragged out the 's' when she spoke. "Don't worry about the ref. I'm working on it. Just worry about your matches."

"I will not let you down, Ms. Greene," Will said.

"The only way you could let me down, Will, is if you acted any differently in a match against Ash Ketchum as opposed to any other trainer," Leaf replied. "Thank you all. That's all I needed to say. Carry on with any training you may do this next week."

"Thank you, Ms. Greene," Lorelei said on behalf of the others as they rose and shuffled out of the room. Misty lingered behind. Leaf sighed and pushed her chair back against the wall.

"What _are_ you going to do for a ref?" Misty asked once they were alone.

"I really have no idea," Leaf sighed. "I don't want to think about it, but Charles has been on my tail all day and set a deadline for Friday, so now I have to think about it. I'll ask Lance about it, and maybe Gary will be willing to watch some old footage of previous conferences to see if there's any refs that stand out as particularly... unbiased? Ugh."

"Speaking of which, where is Gary? I would've expected he'd be here now that the semester's done and he passed his thesis," Misty remarked.

"He's in Pallet with Ash and Ritchie," Leaf answered. "Ash wanted a practice battle with Gary, and Ritchie went with them to... ref..."

Misty blinked and looked at Leaf disbelievingly.

"Leaf... ?" she began cautiously.

The Indigo Champion smirked.

"Well," she said with a click of her tongue, sounding satisfied with herself, "I think I might have just found my ref."

_**May 19th, 2009. Noon. Opelucid City.**_

"As you can see, we keep our offices stocked with state-of-the-art, business-friendly technology," the realtor said, gesturing toward the groups of unoccupied desks lined with computers, phones, and other office amenities. May and Drew were following him as he took them around the office space. "Each computer has the latest word and photo editing programs installed, and they connect to a high-speed Internet that comes at no additional charge."

"Speaking of charges," Drew interjected, "how much will this all cost?"

"We charge $20 per square foot a month," the realtor answered. "I don't have the exact dimensions for this particular space, but if you excuse me for a couple of minutes, I can get them."

"Please."

"All right," the realtor said, stepping back. "Please feel free to continue looking around."

As soon as he disappeared from sight, May looked to Drew and, catching her hands behind her, asked, "So? What do you think?"

"It's great," Drew answered. "I wish Tim was here to let us know if this was a financially sound decision, though."

"We don't have to sign a lease today," May reminded him. "And, I think $20 per square foot is... average? I was looking up the usual costs for renting office space earlier. I think it's nice that it already comes with computers, too. Plus a TV!" She pointed to the wall, where a flatscreen hung. "We can watch Ash's matches next week from here if we want!"

Drew chuckled. He was glad she was excited about this.

"I know. It is really nice," he conceded. "But, money matters. I'm still not entirely sure how we're going to pull off getting the funds we need to get a branch of contests going here."

"Well, it's like you said," May assured him, "we'll try to work something out with the Don George Battle Club for the contest halls, and hopefully they'll let us host other events there. That'll help, won't it?"

"And then there's Iris."

"Iris?"

"No branch of the APC has ever happened without the financial help of the regional league," Drew explained. "We'll need Iris's help, and I'm sure she'll be willing. Leaf was right when she said Iris needs something to add résumé. Remind me to set up a meeting with her once the ball is rolling."

"You're asking me to remind you of something?"

"Good point. I'll put a reminder on my phone instead," Drew said, pulling out his device. May shoved his shoulder but laughed.

* * *

Burgundy waited idly against the wall outside the classroom, scrolling through the newsfeed on her phone. Class had ended fifteen minutes earlier, and Cilan talked to her briefly afterward (yet again being polite, much to her annoyance) before apologizing and revealing he needed to leave. He explained something had happened within the Unova Championship that morning, and he had promised Iris he would be home after class ended. Whatever it was, the media didn't know about it yet.

The campus shuttle came around every half-hour, and she knew she wouldn't have time to make the 12:00 p.m. shuttle without running in the heat, so she decided to wait for when it came again at 12:30 p.m. She would need to leave in five or so minutes to make it on time.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Myers."

Burgundy breathed in sharply and looked up to see Ricard Nouveau, another S-Class professor and member of the PCA Opelucid Board, strolling by. She dropped her hands to her sides and straightened up.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Nouveau," she replied politely.

"Today was your first day of class with Professor Griffith, wasn't it?" Ricard inquired. "How was it?"

"It was fine," Burgundy answered tacitly.

His lips curled into a smile. There was no friendly intent in it, however. It was malicious, sly even, and it unnerved Burgundy.

"Good. Because your future in the PCA depends on it."

He continued on his way, and Burgundy watched him, not allowing her distress show in her expression. Once he disappeared around the corner, she pulled her phone back out, went through her contacts, and typed out a message:

'Do you want to get drinks tonight?'

* * *

"Rough day?" Cilan wasn't at all bothered when he came back to his home to see Paul sitting at the table, face down in his arm. Paul slowly lifted his head to look at the connoisseur.

"I'm just waiting for Wallace to get back to me with a press release," he said.

"How have interviews been going for Iris?" Cilan asked, sitting across from him.

"I don't know," Paul answered. "She's been doing the interviews herself, while I've been trying to get this mess with Grimsley resolved. Alder and Drayden are coming here tonight."

"Good to know." Cilan paused. "By the way, thank you, Paul."

"For what?"

"For helping Iris with all this," Cilan replied. "She appreciates it more than you know. I appreciate it, too. I knew getting into this would be a mess, especially since Alder left us no structure with which to work. Having your experience has been a great deal of help."

"Don't thank me," Paul grumbled. "Leaf would do the same if she weren't busy with the league. And I don't have as much experience as you make it sound. I've only been doing this for a year."

"A year's experience is more than either she or I have," Cilan humored. "Don't degrade your efforts."

Paul said nothing in response. Cilan quirked an amused eyebrow.

"Anyway," Cilan continued, standing up, "have you eaten? I haven't. Would you like some lunch?"

"Sure," Paul mumbled, "thank you."

* * *

"Thank you again, Ms. Ajagara, for the opportunity." Iris's most recent interviewee, a female agent from Hoenn, shook the Unova Champion's hand before escorting herself out of Iris's office and down the hallway. Agent Murray stood near the door.

"How did that one go?" he asked once she was out of earshot, looking toward Iris.

"I liked her." Iris folded her arms and sighed before looking back at him and asking, "Can I just hire you instead?"

Agent Murray chuckled.

"I would be honored to work for you, Ms. Ajagara, if it weren't for my family back home in Sinnoh," he responded. Iris perked up and discreetly cast a look at his hand, where she found a worn, gold wedding ring.

"I didn't know you were married, Cole," she said.

He nodded, adding, "My husband takes care of our daughter when I'm away for work, like I am now."

Iris smiled and dropped her hands back to her sides.

"Well, hopefully, I'll have a new chief for this branch of the G-Men soon, so you can get back to your family," she said.

"Thank you, Ms. Ajagara. Would you like me to bring in the next candidate?" he offered.

"Please do."

Iris sighed after he left, wandering back toward her desk and leaning against it. This would be her final interview of the day. She was happy it was coming to a close, because the bureaucracy and other business behind the Championship _definitely_ wasn't her scene. Yet, she was also disappointed, because none of the candidates thus far has stood out to her in particular.

"Ms. Ajagara?"

Iris could have sworn her heart stopped, if even just for a second. She recognized the voice; at least, she was pretty sure she recognized it. When she looked at his face, though, she knew it was him.

"Agent Adalet." She said it in just above a whisper, mostly out of shock.

He had somewhat aged in the years since she had last seen him. She never knew how old he was when they first met, but she had always guessed early- to mid-thirties. Add seven years to that, and she got the man standing before her.

"It's actually just Erol Adalet, Ms. Ajagara," he corrected. "I haven't been an agent in the G-Men for seven years."

"Oh. That's right." Iris recalled Leaf saying something about him resigning, but it was a minor detail compared to the haze following the three months of chaos she underwent with fifteen other trainers.

Adalet gestured toward the chair in front of her desk.

"May I sit?" he asked.

"Y-Yes. Sorry."

He did so. He brought his suitcase onto his lap and pulled out his résumé, handing it to her.

"Thank... you..." She accepted it with hesitation. Adalet raised his eyebrows.

"I'm assuming you would like an explanation?" he asked.

"There are a few things I would like explained, yes," she admitted.

"Where would you like me to start?"

She paused for a long moment, thinking. Finally, she asked, "Why did you leave?"

"A disagreement," he answered simply, "with Lance."

"What was the disagreement?"

"He and I didn't see eye-to-eye on a lot of things," Adalet explained. "While I appreciate the G-Men for standing as a force of good and a mediator of peace and justice, I acknowledge it has many issues, too. The structure in which Champions exist as unelected political figures means there is, in reality, no structure at all, and no accountability, which leads to fears of bad people, a la Giovanni Paul, wrongfully obtaining that political power. These fears, while entirely justified considering what happened seven years ago, lead to a cycle of corruption, where Champions are picked and refs unfairly throw matches to them, which only continues to reinforce the corrupted system. It wasn't Lance's fault, but he was a participant in this system by preening your colleague, Leaf Greene, for the position, despite some behavior I felt was inappropriate. I'm sure you remember, as you were caught in the middle of it."

Iris stared. She wasn't sure whether she should appreciate his blunt, though clearly rehearsed response or be offended by it. She supposed she couldn't be offended, because she knew what he said was true. She was simply surprised he had so brazenly laid his personal impressions on the table, in an interview no less, where the goal was to impress her, not risk upsetting her.

It was then she realized he had come resolved to take that exact risk.

"I was 'preened,' too," she pointed out, quietly. She surprised herself to talk about it so openly. It was a topic often brushed over, even by those closest to her. "Not as much as Leaf was, but still. I was picked, too."

"I know," Adalet said, nodding.

Iris turned her head slightly, unsure of what to make of that reply.

"Second question," she abruptly started again. "Why do you want to come back?"

He was silent for a moment.

"Because I appreciate what you're doing," he finally said.

"What do you mean?"

"By creating this position, by attempting to establish the Unova branch of the G-Men as a separate entity from the Unova League, you're preparing for something that has needed to happen for years now: a divorce between the G-Men and the league," Adalet elaborated. "You, Ms. Greene, Mr. Rebolledo—you're setting the stage for a complete overhaul, and I want to help."

_**May 19th, 2009. Early Evening. Indigo Plateau.**_

Ritchie wasn't sure what to think of the text message he received from Leaf earlier in the day: 'If it's not a big inconvenience, please stop by my office.' He had already left Pallet by then and was on his way home, so he didn't have the chance to ask Gary if he had any idea what his girlfriend was planning. Ritchie was certain Leaf wanted something, but he had no idea what. Still, he texted back and said he would meet her, and he redirected his course.

He didn't visit the office of the Indigo Champion often. Security could be a pain, and the place was full of intimidating people. He had only been there several times during Lance's tenure to see Leaf, when she was still in training, and he had come by once or twice after her inauguration for various reasons. She was almost always in the same place, though.

Ritchie poked his head into her office and saw that she was at her desk.

"Leaf?" he inquired, trying to get her attention.

Her head snapped up.

"Hi. Glad you could make it," she said, sounding suspiciously more friendly than usual. She stood up as she spoke. "Would you mind shutting that door?"

"Sure... no problem..." He followed her instructions before turning to her again. "What's up?

"Well..." Leaf drawled, trailing off into thought. "I guess there's no beating around the bush. Ritchie, would you be willing to referee the Elite Four matches starting Monday?"

"_What?_"

"Please do this for me as a favor," Leaf pleaded, something Ritchie had never heard her do. "It would mean the world to me. I know you're good at it. You did a great job being a ref for the unofficial match between me and the Silver Conference winner last November, and I've watched you ref other matches before. You'd be financially compensated for your services, of course."

He stared.

"I can't referee something like that for you," Ritchie finally said, his voice still pitched with shock. "I've barely been certified for six months. People who referee league matches... They have _years_ of experience on me. I don't know if there's a league ref who hasn't been in the profession for less than a decade. That second, unofficial match between you and Vincent was just that: unofficial."

"Their experience doesn't matter if they're going to tip matches in the Elite Four's and my favor anyway," Leaf retorted. "You're one of the most fair people I know, Ritchie. I don't trust them, but I do trust you."

"What about the impartiality policy?"

"That's irrelevant. You're friends with both Ash and I," Leaf dismissed. "No one could question you as biased, because you can't be partial to both of us."

"No one _should_," Ritchie corrected. "That doesn't mean they won't. You do realize the reason why the ref at the Silver Conference last year threw you the match was because he was scared and didn't want to be hounded by the media if the competitor rose victorious?"

"I know, but-" Leaf began, but Ritchie cut her off.

"-And even if the media doesn't question me as a ref, it's still a bad situation for me to be in, having to choose between two friends," he said.

"You wouldn't be. You would be judging based on who wins and who loses, simple as that."

"I know that, but would you and Ash?"

"Of course we would. We're big kids. We can handle it."

"I'm not so sure. These are really high stakes. Giving you the match would mean crushing Ash's dream of becoming a Pokémon Master, but giving Ash the match would mean stripping you of the Indigo Champion title, which you spent _years_ preparing to take from Lance. That's too much pressure, and I would hate to see either outcome destroy one of two friendships that mean a lot to me." Ritchie shook his head. "I'm really sorry, Leaf. I can't do it."

She opened her mouth to protest again, but stopped herself, falling back.

"I understand," she gave in. "I'm sorry for asking."

Ritchie hesitated, now feeling guilty. He understood why Leaf was looking to him as a potential ref, but he stood his ground.

"If it's any consolation," he began, "I have an idea for who you might ask to ref for you, if you're looking for someone to be unbiased."

"Who?"

"Olivier Sand," he answered simply. "He's a traveling ref like me. Very talented, very fair. In fact, if I recall correctly, he once told me he was the ref for a full battle between Paul and Ash back when they were still teenagers, when Ash first traveled through Sinnoh."

"Who won?"

"Paul."

Leaf paused, thinking, turning over the idea in her mind.

"I guess... I'd be willing to talk to him," she said. "Do you have his number?"

"Not in my contacts, but I have it somewhere at home," Ritchie answered. "I can text it to you later."

"Please do." Leaf sighed. "Anyway, thank you for coming. I'm sorry for taking up your time."

"It's no problem," Ritchie responded. As he turned away, he added, "I'll see you on Monday, Leaf."

_**November 25th, 2008. Late Morning. Silver Town.**_

The one thing Leaf never felt she would get used to were the cheers of a packed stadium.

Having ended her journey just before she could enter the 1997 Indigo Conference meant she didn't have much experience battling in front of an audience. Joining the G-Men meant sliding into the shadows, into Lance's shadow specifically, and out of the spotlight. Battling, to her, remained a more private affair as she trained under Lance. It wasn't until she became a part of the Indigo Elite Four at 18 that she realized standing in a stadium made it more of a show than anything else.

Now a Champion, she understood why Lance hated league conferences. They were over-the-top, theatrical performances. She never realized just how much of it was fake—or at least, how much of it had the potential to be fake—until her first televised battle as a Champion.

"_Welcome all to the final round of the post-Silver Conference elite matches!_" The announcer's voice boomed in the stadium, intensifying the audience's hype. Leaf winced at the noise. "_We've watched challenger and winner of the 2008 Silver Conference, Vincent Kolack, fight tooth and nail to win against the Elite Four, and he stands here today to challenge Leaf Greene for her Championship title!_"

Leaf rolled her eyes. No one could see either her or Vincent still. She was standing hidden at the left entrance to the battlefield, while Vincent was at the right.

"_So, without futher ado, to our right, here's Vincent Kolack of New Bark Town!_" Vincent walked onto the field as per his cue, waving as the crowd cheered.

"_And of course, to our left, is Champion Leaf Greene of Pallet Town!_" Leaf put on her best smile as she stepped into the light of the sun, heading toward her side of the battlefield. Even if she was put off by the showiness of the league, there was something oddly satisfying about her appearance drawing a greater applause than her opponent's.

She stepped into the painted trainer's box on the field.

"Are both trainers ready?" the ref called out to them.

Vincent nodded and added a resounding "yes," pulling out his first Pokéball.

"I am, too," Leaf agreed, retrieving her first Pokéball as well.

"Then... begin!" The ref started the match.

"Go, Meganium!"

"Come out, Venusaur!"

Vincent's Meganium trilled, seeing her opponent, while Venusaur emitted a low, throaty growl. Leaf found this match-up interesting. She could only assume Meganium was Vincent's starter, since he was from New Bark, in the same way Venusaur was hers, coming from Pallet. It would be interesting to see the two near life-long partners of different trainers match up.

"_Two fully evolved Grass-types to start!_" the announcer commented. "_Neither side has a a type advantage, since we know Leaf's Venesaur has an all-Grass moveset. This should be a good match._"

"After you, sir," Leaf said, her voice thick with a sassy, syrupy sweetness.

"Meganium, use Razor Leaf!" Vincent ordered.

"Venusaur, defend yourself with Vine Whip!"

Venusaur's vines shot from beneath its flower, batting away the storm of leaves that came its way. Not one managed to make contact with Venesaur. Leaf smiled. Her Venusaur's accuracy and coordination had always been on-point.

"Now, Venusaur, begin preparing for a Solar Beam attack!"

"Meganium, stop its concentration with Take Down!"

"Stand your ground, Venusaur."

Venusaur's flower began collecting the sun's rays, while Meganium stomped its foot before charging toward Venesaur. They butted heads, but true to Leaf's instructions, Venusaur didn't move an inch, instead pushing back as it continued to gather energy.

"Now that it's close, Venusaur, use Solar Beam!"

"Get away, Meganium!"

It was too late for Meganium, though. Venusaur's Solar Beam blasted it, blowing it halfway across the field. Meganium fell to its side when the attack ended.

"Meganium, are you oka-" Vincent began, but he was cut off.

"Meganium is unable to battle, so Venusaur is the winner!" the ref quickly declared, and the crowd immediately erupted into cheers. Both Leaf and Vincent, however, appeared shocked.

"_And the first Pokémon goes down!_" the announcer said. "_Vincent has five Pokémon left. What will he do next?_"

Vincent shook it off, as did Leaf. He recalled Meganium before selecting his next Pokémon.

"All right, Miltank, you're up!"

"_Vincent decide to go with a Normal-type! Again, no type advantages, so we'll have to see how this plays out._"

"Miltank, use Rollout!"

Miltank bounded toward Venusaur before balling up and rolling toward him at a high speed. Venusaur looked back toward its trainer, waiting for an order.

"Just wait," Leaf said.

Venusaur looked nervous, but trusted its trainer. Rollout ended up being a direct hit, and Venusaur was pushed back several feet. Its knees gave out from the impact, and it fell to the ground.

"_Oh no, will this be the end for Venusaur?_"

Leaf looked at the ref expectantly, but he did nothing. She let out a breath and frowned.

"All right, Venusaur," Leaf began, "use Synthesis."

Venusaur rose again and looked toward the sun, letting the light restore its energy.

"Okay, Miltank, use Rollout again!"

"Venusaur, Petal Blizzard!"

As Miltank balled up again and headed toward Venusaur, it became caught up in the flowery storm, stopping it dead in its tracks. Miltank unraveled and was thrown back against the ground.

"Oh man," Vincent mumbled to himself. "Miltank, now I think it's time for Milk Dri-"

"-Miltank is unable to battle, so the match once again goes to Venusaur!" the ref interjected once again.

Leaf was astounded. Miltank and Meganium had hardly been given a chance when they were knocked down. Yet, when her Venusaur was in the same predicament, the ref gave him plenty of time to get back on his feet. She attempted to give the ref a pointed look, but he avoided eye contact with her entirely.

That was when her blood began to boil.

* * *

"That's weird," Dawn mused aloud, blinking. "I could've sworn that Miltank was about to get up."

"I don't think you're alone in that," Paul added. "I don't think Meganium was completely done either."

They were in the Champion's box, along with Gary, Lance, and the Indigo Elite Four. All eight trainers were on their feet, watching the match in alarm. Although there had historically been strict referees who gave little leeway during matches such as these, none of them had seen anything quite like this.

Vincent's next Pokémon was Magneton. Leaf decided to recall Venusaur and send out her Ampharos. Magneton's Thunder missed the mark, but Ampharos's Electro Ball was a direct hit. Magneton was called unable to battle shortly thereafter, again without regard for time.

"Three bad calls in a row," Gary mused. "This isn't good. I can tell Leaf's mad, even from here."

Lance pressed his lips into a hard line as a low growl emerged from the back of his throat. He spun on his heel, heading toward the door.

"Lance, where are you going?" Karen called after him.

"Downstairs, for when Leaf's match ends," he answered shortly.

"Why?"

"Damage control."

Vincent sent out his fourth Pokémon. Gary let out a breath and looked to where Lance had gone.

"I'm going, too," he decided.

"Don't you want to see how the battle ends?" Misty asked, turning toward him as he motioned to leave.

"It's clear Leaf's going to win. The ref's throwing her the match," Gary replied before disappearing out the door.

None of them wanted to hear it, though they knew it was true. Paul, Dawn, and Misty all exchanged glances.

"We should go, too," Paul mumbled at last, following Lance and Gary's footsteps.

* * *

"Something's wrong," Ritchie breathed in sharply.

"What is?" Ash asked, casting his friend a confused glance. Together, they had made the trek to Johto to watch the match in the stadium. It was Leaf's first league match as the Indigo Champion, and they wanted to support her.

"I thought I might have been imagining it the first time, but that ref is making some really questionable calls," Ritchie elaborated. "When a Pokémon is knocked down, you're supposed to give it a ten-second wait time to see if it's able to get back up before declaring it unable to battle. This guy's not waiting at all for Vincent."

"Why would he do that?" Ash looked appalled. "That's not fair."

"I don't... I don't know..." Ritchie was at a loss for words. League referees, especially those who called Champion matches, were perceived as the paradigm of fair judgment in Pokémon battles. Ritchie was new in the refereeing business, and he didn't want to be so arrogant as to believe he was better than someone with far more experience, but he wasn't sure what to make of this. "Maybe... Maybe that's the point, though."

* * *

By the time the match was over, the entire group within the Champion box had moved down to the first floor, prepared for the inevitable fallout when Leaf stalked backstage, steaming with anger. They underestimated her ire as she flew into the room in a fit of fury.

"What the _hell_ was that?" she demanded, her voice pitched with enmity.

"Leaf, calm down," Lance said evenly, the first to respond.

"_Calm down?_" she laughed. "How can you expect me to calm down? That was a disaster! I can't even believe people didn't start rioting in the stands. It was so obvious that ref had a bias toward me."

Misty's phone buzzed, and she glanced at the message on her screen. She cast Dawn and Paul a quick glance, saying, "I'm going to get Ash and Ritchie."

"Okay." Dawn nodded. Misty quickly left the room.

"It's not as bad as you think," Gary began reassuringly.

"_Really._" Leaf was not in the mood for tender behavior.

"Even with the bad calls, it was clear you were in control and your Pokémon were stronger," Gary persisted. "You were the better battler."

"Exactly," Leaf huffed. "_I_ was the better battler. I knew I could easily clinch a victory _on my own_ once Meganium's Take Down bounced off and my Venusaur's Solar Beam caused that much damage to it—because that was his starter, and if that was the best fight they could put up, then I was going to win and protect my title just fine. How dare that ref take a fair win from me and leave me with this mess?" She snapped her head toward Will, and he reeled back in surprise. "Who was that ref anyway?"

"I'll find Mr. Goodshow, and I'll get his name, Ms. Greene," Will responded, recovering.

"Good. I want him fired. I don't want him ever reffing for a league-official event again. In fact, if I can get his certification stripped of him, I will. I don't care how many years he's been in the profession."

"He should've known better," Lance conceded.

"That's an understatement."

"Leaf, your anger is justified, but you must pause and breathe, so you don't act irrationally," he advised.

"Right, because you've always been so good at doing that," Leaf snapped.

It was then Misty slid back into the room with both Ash and Ritchie in tow. Leaf stood simmering for a moment longer before pulling her fingers through her hair and saying, "I need to schedule a rematch, with a new ref."

"That's not a good idea, Leaf," Lance said.

"And why not? It was an unfair match. A new one is warranted," she growled.

"I agree with Lance," Paul finally spoke up.

"You stay out of this, Paul. This is not your division."

"Hear me out," Paul pressed, though he was now irked, too. "If you schedule a rematch, you'll set a bad, exploitable precedent where losing challengers will demand a rematch over inane ref errors, which happen in every match. They just happened to be particularly bad in this one. Also, scheduling a rematch breaks the illusion that the league is a non-corrupt entity with Champions who _aren't_ raised to be Champions from childhood, _Leaf_."

"Good, I hope it's broken," she retorted. "I wanted my tenure to be about transparency and doing what's right. Brushing over what happened would be playing into the same system that nearly ruined us six years ago, or did you already forget about that? Did you already forget why we're here?"

"It's not playing _into_ the system, it's _playing_ the system," Paul fought back. "Believe me, I hate it as much as you do, but if you fly off the handle now, we are _never_ going to fix the problems we want to solve. We can't even do much until Iris is here, and that's a long time coming."

An uncomfortable silence fell. Leaf heaved a breath, but said nothing. Ash cast her a concerned glance.

"Leaf," he began quietly, slowly, "I wouldn't have even known if Ritchie hadn't said something to me, about the ref making bad calls. No one will make a big deal out of it unless you do."

Leaf loosened the tension in her shoulders.

"It still has to be addressed," she said.

"I agree," Paul said. "And it will be."

"How?"

"An unofficial match," Paul answered. "Invite Vincent to battle you again, where there are no cameras. In fact, you can ask our good friend Ritchie—" Paul gestured to him as he spoke, and Ritchie straightened up. "—who _just_ got certified to ref for you. You'll win, you'll be able to sleep better at night, and Vincent won't complain. Fair enough?"

Leaf bit her lip and furrowed her eyebrows, hesitating.

"... Okay." She was quieter, her anger now contained.

Gary let out an audibly relieved sigh, now that the situation was resolved.

"Come on, Leaf," he said, touching her waist. "Let's get you something to drink."

She nodded, and they left. Lance watched them go with an indiscernible expression.

"I've never seen one of Leaf's meltdowns so effectively diffused," he mused after they were gone, before looking toward Paul. "Nice work, Rebolledo."

The compliment caught Paul off guard, and he turned his head slightly.

"Thank you..."

Dawn touched the small of his back, offering him a reassuring smile. Misty smacked her lips before her gaze connected with Ritchie's, and then with Ash's.

_**May 19th, 2009. Early Evening. Opelucid City.**_

Iris was glad to finally be away from her office and back in the living quarters of the gym, where she didn't feel like an outsider in something that was supposed to be hers. Alder and Drayden had recently arrived, and they had gathered in the living room to discuss the matter of a new Elite Four member. She sat next Cilan on the sofa, across from her mentors, while Paul took up residence on a nearby armchair.

"How did your interview go today?" Drayden asked her politely to start.

"There were... a couple interesting candidates." Iris felt strange talking about it, knowing Alder disapproved of establishing the G-Men in Unova. She added, "I'm going to need some time to decide."

"I think that's perfectly fine," Alder spoke up, catching her off guard. "Better to carefully consider your options than to make a snap decision and end up with the wrong person."

"Yeah." Iris nodded. She then looked toward Paul, wanting to get off the subject. "How did it go today with Wallace?"

"The press release is out," Paul answered shortly. "Haven't turned on the TV yet to see what's happening, though."

"Thank you, Paul," Iris said. "Really."

He nodded but said nothing.

"If the press release is out, then expect speculation to start for who you'll pick to replace Grimsley," Drayden said.

"And who am I going to pick?" Iris asked.

Drayden and Alder exchanged quick glances. Alder folded his hands and sighed.

"Well..." the former Champion began thoughtfully, "I think it would be best if you offered the position to Elesa. But, she _will_ turn you down."

"Then why offer it?" Cilan politely inquired.

"Because the gesture will be appreciated," Alder elaborated. "I know Elesa has no interest in joining the Elite Four, but offering her the chance will stand as recognition for her talents and her years of service as a gym leader. It will gain her respect, and it will gain the respect of the other gym leaders, too."

"And it will trickle into the media cycle, too, which will strengthen your reputation," Drayden added.

"Okay..." Iris seemed more at ease. Maybe Grimsley quitting wouldn't be as bad as she thought, if it would end up helping her rather than hurting her. "But then what?"

"Then, you're free to pick whoever you want," Alder answered. "You'll have shown sufficient grace in offering it to Elesa, so the decision is yours completely."

Iris let out a laugh and said, "But that's just the the thing: I don't know who I want. I don't know what would be a good choice for an Elite Four member. I never even was one."

Cilan sighed. He knew therein lied the main problem with Iris becoming Champion now.

"Paul, what do you think?" Cilan asked, casting the Sinnoh Champion a glance.

"A friend," Paul said simply.

"What do you mean?" Iris asked.

"Pick someone's who's a friend, or someone who could be," Paul expanded on his initial answer. "Leaf bringing Misty into the Elite Four was one of the best possible decisions she could have made."

"I don't have a 'Misty,' though," Iris said, frowning. "Believe me, if I could have Misty herself, I would."

"There were not one gym leader with whom you became close during your time as the Opelucid City Gym Leader?" Drayden inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"No, there was," Iris corrected, "but, you see, I married him."

A brief silence ensued. Cilan's gaze fell upon her, and Iris crossed one leg over the other and folded her arms, wearing an exasperated smile.

"It would be good, even, just to have someone close to your own age," Alder spoke again.

"Like who?" Iris asked.

"Well, there's Cheren Haberkorn, the gym leader in Aspertia City," Alder answered. "or there's Georgia Hamilton, Brycen's replacement at the Icirrus City Gym."

Iris perked up.

"Georgia... ?"

Cilan raised his brow, but Iris shook her head before asking, "Paul, what did Leaf say?"

"Her words: 'Someone who can disagree with you and not quit,'" Paul repeated. "She was being sarcastic with what happened with Grimsley, but it's not bad advice either. It's about having someone who will hold you accountable, because there's no one outside the Championship circle who can without trying to kill you."

"Thanks for being blunt," Iris said.

"It's what I'm here for," Paul replied.

Iris blew a loose strand of hair out of her face and untangled her arms.

"Someone who can hold you accountable, huh?" she mused aloud.

_**May 19th, 2009. Evening. Icirrus City.**_

"It took you long enough," Burgundy grumbled as Georgia slid into the seat across from her at one of the less-expensive sit-down restaurants that served alcohol in town.

"Sorry, I had to lock up the gym," Georgia said dryly, retrieving the drink menu and opening it up. "You must have had a really bad day if you're this grumpy to see me. Did class not go well today or something?"

"Class went fine," Burgundy replied, her voice flat. "I didn't do much other than stand in the back while Cilan went over the syllabus, but it wasn't as painful as I thought it was going to be."

"Yeah, I don't get that." Georgia said, her eyes never straying from the menu as she turned the page. "I thought you said Cilan was being nice to you."

"He _is_."

"Then what's your problem?"

"With him, or with today?"

"Both." Georgia went with it.

"My day hasn't been so great, because of what happened _after_ class," Burgundy said.

"That is?" Georgia asked, putting her menu down, having made her choice.

"One of the PCA Opelucid Board members came by and yet again reminded me how much he really wants me to be expelled from the association."

Georgia stared, but she said nothing. One of the waiters came to the table, noting Georgia's arrival.

"Hello miss," he greeted. "Is there anything I can get for you today?"

"Yes," Georgia replied, reaching into her wallet to retrieve her ID. "I'd like the Key Lime Coconut Margarita, and two Fireball shots—one for me, and one for my friend."

The waiter accepted her ID, glancing at it before handing it back to her.

"All right," he said. "I'll have that out to you as soon as I can."

As soon as he was gone, Burgundy looked pointedly at Georgia and said, "I have to drive."

"We can walk back to my apartment, and you can spend the night," Georgia offered.

Burgundy nodded, thankful. She pushed her water out of the way and reached for the alcohol beverage she had ordered earlier. Georgia frowned, rubbing her temple. She felt bad for Burgundy. She had all heard all about her latest installment of issues with PCA, but she was at a loss of how to help her, and that was frustrating.

"So what's the deal with Cilan, then?" Georgia asked.

"Mm?"

"What's your problem with Cilan?" Georgia clarified.

"Oh." Burgundy set her drink down. "I don't know. Aside from him being an arrogant _cul_, I hate that he got everything handed to him on a silver platter: accepted into the S-Class program at 18, married at 22 to the woman who would end up being the Unova Champion, and now a respected professor at the PCA at 24. Meanwhile, I'm a single 22-year-old who's been rejected from the S-Class program three times now, teetering on the edge of being kicked out of the PCA for something that happened _years_ ago."

"Yeah, well, life's a bitch and then you die," Georgia grumbled in response. She sighed before adding, "Look, you and I don't know what happened behind closed doors to cause this mess for you. But, from what you've told me, it sounds like Cilan is the only person in the association who's on your side, and I wouldn't take that for granted. It seems like this class is what's gonna make or break not only whether you get into the S-Class program, but whether you stay in the PCA at all."

"I know."

"Then don't screw it up because of some long-standing grudge."

"I _know_," Burgundy repeated. "I don't plan on it. I've been perfectly civil with Cilan since this began. But you have to understand why I'm frustrated. It would be like you working for someone you hate, like Iris."

"I don't _hate_ Iris," Georgia protested. "In fact, I feel bad for her, because although she doesn't deserve that Championship seat, she also doesn't deserve to be killed over it. I don't know what was going through Alder's head when he decided to nominate her as his replacement, but it was a bad decision."

Their attention was suddenly drawn to a nearby television hanging on the wall, as the breaking news banner flashed across the screen.

"_Good evening, Unova,_" the anchor began. "_We've just received news that Dark-type specialist Grimsley Astor has resigned from his position in the Unova Elite Four. According to a press release from the Unova Championship office, the resignation occurred on good terms and was a result of-_"

"-Well," Burgundy began, clicking her tongue, "looks like you're not the only one who feels that way, Gia."

_**May 20th, 2009. Middle of the night. Pallet Town.**_

It had been a long time since Ash last had a restless sleep.

He didn't dream at night much anymore, which was okay, because he learned it was much better to dream in the daylight and to strive to make those sunshine dreams a reality, rather than pine for the ones seen in darkness, the ones he had since accepted were never meant to happen. Yet, on that particular evening, he woke up with a pit in his stomach and static in his head. Something wasn't right; something he had seen wasn't right.

Pikachu was peacefully snoozing to Ash's right, undisturbed. Ash carefully sat up and reached for his phone, dialing a number.

"_... Ash?_" Gary's sleepy voice emerged from the other end of the line.

"Hey, Gary," Ash said in just above a whisper.

"_Ash, it's 2 a.m._"

"I know. I'm sorry," Ash apologized. "I had a bad dream, I think."

"_Silver? I thought you had stopped seeing him in your sleep years ago._"

"I don't... know..." Ash stared at the ceiling, caught in its empty spread. "Gary, what do you think's going to happen to that Lileep?"

"_Oh geez._"

"I'm being serious."

"_I know. I can't say for sure, Ash._"

"Who would take it?"

"_I don't know. There are a lot of PokéManiacs who will go to extremes to collect rare Pokémon._" Gary yawned before adding, "_You've got to stop worrying about this, Ash. Yes, it's terrible. But there's nothing you or I can do about it._"

"Yeah..."

"_Get up, get some water, maybe a snack, and go back to sleep,_" Gary continued. "_I'll see you tomorrow, okay?_"

"Okay."

Pikachu was roused midway through the conversation. He lifted his head, casting his trainer a tired gaze before crawling over to him and snuggling into his chest. Ash smiled, patting his companion on top of his head.

.

.


	5. IV: In Which Bonnie's Impatience Wins

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.

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Chapter IV: In Which Bonnie's Impatience Wins

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_**May 22nd, 2009. Early Morning. Opelucid City.**_

It was hardly past 8 a.m. when Dawn's cell phone cut through the sleepy, sunlit silence of the bedroom. Dawn jerked awake, and she made several unsuccessful grabs at her nightstand. When the ruckus went on long enough, Paul shifted under the covers and grumbled something into his pillow, a muffled, "Dawn,_ get your phone._"

"Hello?" Dawn finally grabbed the device, answering it. Her voice was groggy, still. A brief silence passed before she shot up in bed, now fully awake. "Yes, yes! This is her. Dawn Berlitz from the CIU campaign."

She brushed her fingers through her messy hair, listening.

"Really? That's... that's great. What time would work best for you? ... Yes, 2 p.m. would be fine. Thank you so much."

As soon as she hung up, Dawn dropped the phone onto the bed and, burying her face in her hands, let out a short, delighted squeal.

"It is _too_ early for that," Paul groused, turning his head to give her a side eye.

"Sorry," she apologized, dropping her hands. "I'm just very excited. That was Don George, the owner of the Don George Battle Club in Unova. I've been waiting for him to get in contact with me for several days, after I called Ash's friend and told him about the CIU campaign. Don George said he's very interested in partnering with the APC to get contests in Unova, and that he would also be willing to offer the battle club here in Opelucid for the Q&amp;A event we want to hold!"

"Which Don George is this?"

"Hm?"

"There are multiple Don Georges," Paul explained. "It's like the Joy family and the Jenny family."

"I... don't know," Dawn admitted. "But I do know that I have meeting with one of them at the Opelucid battle club today, and that's all that matters." She paused before adding, "I should text Drew."

She picked up her phone once more and quickly typed and sent a message. She then set her phone back to vibrate and turned off the alarm that was supposed to wake her and Paul an hour later than now before throwing her covers off her and heading toward the bathroom. Paul sat up, too, and stretched. Dawn's phone buzzed, and Paul cast it a wary glance. He could read the messages on the screen:

'Guess who just scheduled a meeting with Don George at 2 p.m. today?'

'Dawn, you're the best. At the battle club?'

"Hey..." Dawn wandered back into the bedroom, her hair now tied up in a manageable bun. "Would you like to get breakfast? There's a diner nearby, I think."

"Why?"

"Oh, I don't know." Dawn shrugged. "I'm just in the mood for pancakes, before I have to actually get dressed up and go meet with Don George this afternoon. Besides... It would be nice for you and I to do something. We've both been so busy that we haven't seen much of each other, and we don't..." She stopped short, reconsidering her phrasing. "... and we're both too tired to do anything at night."

"Fine. We can get breakfast," Paul agreed.

"Really?"

"Mm. Just give me some time to get dressed," he said, also rising from bed.

"That's okay. I have to get ready, too." She touched his arm reassuringly as he passed by, but he didn't pause, and the heat of his skin became a ghost against her fingertips.

He closed the bathroom door, and Dawn folded her arms, sighing. She picked her phone back up and read Drew's message before replying:

'Yes, at the battle club.'

* * *

"It truly is an honor, Ms. Ajagara," Elesa said kindly, as she and Iris stood at the mouth of the Champion's office. "I deeply appreciate the offer, and I apologize for declining—but I'm too attached to my role as gym leader to leave."

"I understand," Iris said, nodding.

Elesa smiled, flicking a loose strand of her platinum blonde hair out of her face.

"I wish you the very best in finding a new Elite Four member," she said, extending a slender hand toward Iris. "Take care of yourself. I imagine these past few weeks have been difficult."

"I will, thank you." Iris shook her hand. "Best wishes."

"To you, as well." Elesa stepped back, out into the hallway. "Goodbye."

She turned and continued down the hallway, her heels clicking against the tile, her dress swaying in rhythm with every step she made. She met Cilan, who was coming from the opposite direction, mid-way.

"Good morning, Cilan," Elesa said in passing.

"Morning, Elesa," Cilan politely responded. "Thank you for coming by."

"It was my pleasure," she said. "Give my sincere thanks to your wife, again."

"I will." Cilan paused to watch her leave before continuing to destination, Iris's office. He found her sitting on one of the armchairs, her head leaning against her hand.

"So?" he asked, drawing in her attention.

"It was just like Alder said would happen. She turned it down," Iris said. "Even though I knew it was coming, I'm kind of disappointed. I really like Elesa. She would've been great for the Elite Four."

"Alder was also right in saying she would be appreciative of the gesture," Cilan said.

"Mm..."

Iris placed her hands on her knees and stretched out, leaning her head back. Her eyes slowly made their way around the room—from the curtained windows, to her finished wooden desk, to the bookshelf full of texts that weren't even hers, to the elegant chaise lounge across from her.

"I hate this office," she said.

Cilan blinked and cast a quick glance around the room, too.

"I think it's nice. But..." He tapped his finger against his chin. "It definitely isn't you. Perhaps you should redecorate."

"Yeah," Iris agreed. "It needs a tree. And a skylight. And maybe one of those CDs that plays jungle noises on repeat."

Cilan chuckled.

"It sounds like someone's homesick," he remarked teasingly.

"Don't tell me you don't miss life in Striaton City sometimes," she sassed.

"Of course I do," Cilan said. "But, I also appreciate the life I have now, with you."

Iris ducked her head, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear as a coy smile spread across her lips. She felt silly. They had been married for more than a year and a half, and he still managed to pull out lines that made her heart murmur. She hoped it never stopped.

"Me too," she said. Suddenly, the light feeling in her chest rushed to her head, and she felt dizzy. "Ugh..."

She stood, swaying slightly before heading toward her desk. She picked up a glass of red juice and drank from it. Cilan frowned.

"Are you still drinking Leppa Juice?" he asked.

"Yeah, so?" Iris replied, setting it back onto its coaster.

"Are you sure you don't need to see a doctor?"

"I'm fine, Cilan," she insisted. "It's just the stress, that's all."

"The Elite Four member, the chief of the G-Men, or ... the man at the inauguration?" Cilan took special care to avoid the word 'gunman.' He did that with nearly everything surrounding the events at the inauguration. Not so much for Iris—she didn't care; she'd probably roll her eyes if she figured out what he was doing—but for himself.

"All three," Iris answered. "What about the man from the inauguration?"

"His arraignment is today."

"Oh... I guess I haven't been paying much attention to that," she said, shrugging. "I probably should. I think it's... irresponsible not to? I don't know."

Now recovered from her minor spell of illness, Iris returned to the armchair.

"Have you thought about who you want to hire for the chief of the G-Men?" Cilan struck up a new topic.

"Thought about it? Yes. Any closer to deciding? No," Iris sighed. "I'm probably gonna find a new Elite Four member before I decide on someone for the G-Men, which I know is kind of backwards, since the chief is sort of a higher priority right now. At least, it is for Paul, and probably Leaf, too."

"Who are the candidates?" Cilan inquired, sitting on the chaise.

"They're... I can't even remember all their names, now," Iris answered. "They're mostly from inside the G-Men. I had one who... currently isn't working for it."

"No one stood out?"

"No, someone stood out," Iris corrected. "But, I'm not so sure about him."

"You _can_ put out a second call for applications, if you'd like," Cilan reminded. "You could even hold a second round of interviews, if you narrow your choices down."

"I don't think that would help." Iris shook her head. "I don't think I would get anything... um... different if I had more applicants. And more interviews with the applicants I already have wouldn't help, either. I wouldn't know what to ask them."

"You could ask Paul to sit in with you," Cilan suggested. "He probably would have, had Grimsley not resigned."

"I don't want that either."

"Why not?"

"Because..." Iris paused, struggling to put her thoughts into words. "Okay, so, I super appreciate Paul's help. I don't know where I'd be without him. And I think that's the problem. Paul can't hold my hand forever, and I don't want him to. I really don't like feeling as though I have to be... babied, I guess? I know everything's a mess with the inauguration and Alder leaving behind, well, nothing, and I know Cynthia told me it isn't fair to measure myself right away, but... I don't think I'm being a good leader if I can't figure out how to get on my feet myself."

"Iris, it's only been two weeks," Cilan assured her. "Cynthia's right. It isn't fair to measure yourself now, nor is it fair for anyone else to do the same, even if they are. Remember, Leaf was also very hands-on with Paul after he was inaugurated, and he did not face nearly the same caliber of issues that you do now."

"I know," Iris said as she began to play with a section of her hair, braiding it. "That's just how I feel, that's all. Anyway, could we not talk about this right now?"

"Sure. What would you rather talk about?"

"Oh, I don't know. Something non-serious." She smiled. "I'd even be willing to talk about trains, if you'd like."

Cilan chuckled again.

"Iris Ajagara, you are a true gem in this world."

_**May 22nd, 2009. Morning. Vaniville Town.**_

Fletchinder poked his head into Serena's bedroom to see that the young woman was still sleep, her head sunk into the cushion of her pillow. He crept into the room, a mischievous glint in its eye. This had always been his favorite thing to do, ever since his trainer's daughter was little. He hoped onto her nightstand and tilted his head, staring at her peaceful, sleeping form.

Then, he let out a loud squawk, and Serena yelped as she suddenly awoke. She became tangled in the sheets of her own bed and fell off, her head hitting the carpet floor as she did.

"Arceus, Fletchinder," Serena grumbled as she sat up, rubbing the back of her head. "You scared me. I hate it when you do that."

Fletchinder shrugged, satisfied that his work was now done. He flitted over to the windowsill and undid the lock with his beak, pushing the door open and taking flight for his morning exercise. Serena growled again, grabbing the edge of her bed for support as she stood up. She brushed her fingers through her hair and pulled out the nighttime bow she wore in it.

She could smell her mother's cooking coming from the kitchen.

Serena didn't bother to change out of her pajamas before she went downstairs. She peered into the kitchen, and sure enough, there her mother was, at the stove as usual.

"Good morning, dear," Grace said, turning her head to look at her daughter, sensing she had arrived. "How did you sleep?"

"You know, I don't think I requested a wake-up call," Serena answered, folding her arms as she slung her weight to one hip. "It's summer now. The semester is over. I should be able to sleep in, _especially_ on my birthday."

"Oh, but if you slept in, then you'd miss out on your birthday breakfast," Grace said. "I made rose-shaped waffles."

Grace gestured for Serena to come, and she begrudgingly obliged. Grace pulled one of the finished waffles out of its maker and transferred it to a plate. She then strategically placed a square of butter where the bud of the rose would be found, and it immediately began to melt.

"Cute," Serena remarked dryly.

"You don't sound very appreciative," Grace half-teased, half-chastised.

Serena let on an exasperated smile.

"I am, Mom," she said, leaning over to kiss her cheek. "Thank you."

Grace smiled, too, as her daughter pulled away.

"Go sit down," she said. "I'll bring you a plate."

Serena did as her mother told, plopping down into her seat at the small dining table. A placemat and utensils were already laid out, and two freshly picked flowers stood in a vase as a table centerpiece. Grace placed a plate of two rose waffles in front of Serena, the butter now running through the curves and crevices of the golden petals. She then set down a jar of maple syrup before filling a plate of waffles for herself and sitting across from Serena.

"So, are you doing anything special today?" Grace asked.

"Other than eating your rose-shaped waffles?" Serena replied, retrieving the syrup and pouring a healthy amount onto the said treat.

"Yes, other than the waffles."

"Welll... I'm driving up to Lumiose City to meet up with Clemont and Bonnie," Serena answered. "We're going to have lunch together, maybe go see a matinée. Diantha recently starred in a new movie that I wanted to see, and now I have an excuse."

"Are they getting you anything?" Grace asked.

"Clemont and Bonnie? They'll pick up the tab on lunch, I'm sure..." She trailed off. "I don't need any gifts, though."

"Why not? Twenty-one is a big number."

"Because it's not necessary. There's nothing special about 21." Serena shrugged. "My next milestone isn't until I'm 25. That's when the adult brain is fully developed, or so Clemont says."

"I wouldn't count out gifts just yet."

"You sound like you know something I don't." Serena raised an eyebrow.

"Oh no, I don't."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

Serena didn't believe her, not for a minute. Her mother was not very good at keeping secrets. Still, it didn't matter much to her then as she grabbed her fork and cut into a section of her waffle, taking her first bite.

_**May 22nd, 2009. Afternoon. Opelucid City.**_

"Okay, so you're going to take a left at the next light," Dawn directed, looking at the digital map app that was on her Pokétch, "and then you'll keep going until you reach Club Avenue, which it'll be on."

"All right." Drew listened to her instructions, turning on his left blinker as he came upon the next corner. The two of them were on their way to the Opelucid battle club for their meeting with Don George. The rest of the CIU staff, much of which had now arrived in Unova, were back the newly leased office, unpacking.

"So Don George said he's definitely interested?" Drew asked.

"Yes," Dawn confirmed. "He told me he was completely onboard. He just wanted to talk to us."

"Do we know which Don George this is?"

"Nope."

"Okay then. We'll wing it."

"Right."

Things remained quiet between them for a moment as Drew continued up the street, though the silence wasn't uncomfortable. Dawn folded her arms and leaned back against the headrest, thinking.

"... Drew?" she began tentatively. "Can I ask you a weirdly personal question?"

"You're going to ask me it anyway, so sure," Drew replied, his eyes never leaving the road ahead of him.

"Do you and May ever..." Dawn hesitated. This wasn't an easy topic for her to approach, but she didn't want to let her uncertainty turn the situation awkward. "... go through dry spells?"

"What... kind of dry spells?" Drew asked cautiously.

"I think you know."

"You're right, Dawn, that is a weirdly personal question. Isn't this something you should ask one of your girlfriends? Like, May or Zoey?"

"If I asked May about this, she would get flustered and come up with a million different excuses to escape the situation," Dawn protested. "And Zoey's not in a relationship, or so she says."

"Fair points," Drew conceded. "Well... no, not really. Life and travels sometimes get in the way, but otherwise, our relationship is pretty consistent. Why, are you and Paul having problems?

"Ah, no," Dawn replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. "It's like you said: Life sometimes gets in the way." She paused, looking out the window. "It looks like we're here."

Drew pulled into the parking lot and quickly found an open space. Dawn stepped out of the car and quickly checked her reflection in the sideview mirror to make sure everything was in place before the meeting.

"This parking lot is nice and large, which is good," Drew commented aloud as they moved across the blacktop. "It means people won't have to worry about purchasing parking if they come to the Q&amp;A event."

"Yeah," Dawn agreed, "that's a plus."

The doors opened automatically when they reached the entrance, and they stepped inside. Although both had seen pictures and watched a tournament or two on television, neither had ever visited one of the Don George Battle Clubs before. Dawn looked around, wondering where they should go, until Drew touched her shoulder and pointed her in the direction of a receptionist.

"Good afternoon," the receptionist greeted them when they approached. "Are you interested in entering our battle matchup system to find an opponent, or do you want to use one of the fields to battle each other?"

"We actually have a meeting with Don George today," Drew informed her.

"Yeah, I'll take care of 'em." Dawn and Drew both turned their heads to see Stephan striding toward them. He grinned and added, "Drew and Dawn, right? You're the friends of Ash who're working to put contests in Unova?"

"That's right," Drew confirmed. "You're... Stephen?"

"Er... Stephan," Stephan corrected. "But, whatever! Any friends of Ash Ketchum are friends of mine! I think we might've met before, though—at Iris's inauguration, and before that, seven years ago when Kyurem was, er, rampaging through the city. Wild day."

"Good memories," Dawn added with a laugh.

"Anyway, I can take you up to where Don George will meet you," Stephan continued. "Just follow me."

He lead them down a hallway, to an elevator that had 'Staff-Only' printed on the doors. Stephan pulled a card key out of his back pocket and slid it through the reader. The doors opened, and he invited Drew and Dawn to step inside first.

"By the way," Drew began casually, addressing Stephan, "would you mind telling us which Don George we're meeting with, if you know?"

"_The_ Don George," Stephan answered, pressing the button to the third floor. "The general manager of the whole battle club chain in Unova. After I told my boss, the Don George that's in charge of the battle club here, about the CIU movement, he thought it was a great idea, and he decided to tell his older brother. I think the rest of the family's excited, too."

Dawn and Drew exchanged quick glances and discreet smiles.

When the doors opened again, Stephan led them further down another hallway before stopping in front of a door.

"Okay, this is it," he said. "Good luck."

Stephan raised his hand and knocked on the door. It opened to reveal the big, burly Don George, and he towered over both Dawn and Drew, though they were fully grown adults.

"Well, what do we have here?" he said in a gruff, though friendly voice. "Let me guess. You—" Don George pointed to Drew. "—are Drew Hayden, the campaign manager for the CIU?"

"That's right." Drew nodded.

"And you—" Don George turned to Dawn. "—must be Dawn Berlitz, the young lady I spoke with on the phone this morning."

"Ah, yes," Dawn answered, smiling nervously. "Pleased to meet you."

"Well, come on in! I've been excited to talk to yeh." He swung the door open, ushering them inside. He then looked to Stephan. "Thank you, Stephan. You can get back to whatever you were workin' on before."

"Will do, Mr. Don George," Stephan said with a beat of his fist against his chest.

Don George closed the door before turning to face Drew and Dawn again.

"Please, grab a seat," he said, before pulling one out from behind his desk, lifting it over his head, and setting it directly in front of the two chairs Dawn and Drew pulled from the wall. Dawn held back a laugh, a product of her estrangement.

"So," Don George began after her at down, leaning his forearm onto his knee, "Mr. Contesta finally decided it was about time to bring contests to Unova, eh?"

"He thought it might be a good time with the change in leadership," Drew replied.

"It'll be a good thing for Ms. Ajagara, that's for sure," Don George said. "That's the kind of thing that defines a legacy, and she needs somethin' to pull 'er up right now. Is she helping you out?"

"Financially, we hope so," Drew answered. "We're pretty sure she will. We want to meet with her soon."

"That's good. It was the Unova League that helped my family first kick off the battle club, as a matter of fact. It was a long time ago, couple years before Alder Ray won his title." Don George paused. "Sorry, got a little off track there. How many contest locations are you lookin' to get?"

"Mr. Contesta said we need at least twelve," Drew said.

"And how many do you want to be in one of our battle clubs?"

"It would be great if we could get at least six."

"Mmm... I think that's entirely doable. We'd have to figure out the logistics, but it's doable." Don George stroked his mustache thoughtfully. "And the other six, you're lookin' to fundraise for them?"

"Yes." Drew nodded.

"Startin' with this Q&amp;A with Top Coordinators?"

"Right," Dawn jumped into the conversation. "We want it to be our big kick-off event, I guess you could say, so we can start getting Unovans interested and hopefully willing to contribute to help get contest halls built."

"And you'd like to hold that here?"

"If possible, yes," Dawn answered.

"How long do you need to put it together?"

"A month would be ideal," Drew said. "Do you have any openings in early July?"

"Hn." Don George frowned. He turned around and grabbed a large, worn planner of his desk. "You see, July's one of our most busy months. Unova's Independence Day, the day we became our own region in Napaj, is on the 4th of July, and the battle club gets a lot of traffic around that time."

"So... later?" Dawn inquired.

"Would you be willing to wait for August?"

Drew pressed his lips into a hard line. Dawn cast him a questioning glance, and he shook his head.

"Do you have anything a little bit earlier, then?" Dawn asked, looking back at Don George.

"Well..." He flipped through the pages of the planner. "We've got June 18th open."

"June 18th ... ?" Dawn trailed off, doing the math in her head. Drew was doing the same.

"Yep." Don George nodded. "Would you have enough time to pull it together before then?"

"Ah..." Drew hesitated.

"For sure," Dawn spoke up, drawing a surprised look from Drew. "No need to worry."

"All right. I'll put the CIU down for June 18th then." He grabbed a pen and scribbled in a quick note. "Are there any other events for the CIU where you'd like to use one of the battle clubs as a venue?"

"Yes, actually," Drew said, recovering. "At some point, I'm interested in organizing a special contest in Unova, so Unovans have the chance to enter one. I'd like for us to actually advertise that at the Q&amp;A."

Dawn blinked. Drew hadn't told her about this.

"So you're gonna need to set a date for that soon, huh?" Don George mused. "Well, while the Opelucid battle club might be busy throughout most of July... We own a decently-sized stadium where we hold the Club Battle Tournament in Nimbasa Town every year."

"That would be great for July," Drew agreed.

"Okay then. I'll put a call into my little cousin and see what the schedule's like down there. Sound good?"

Drew smirked.

"It sounds... great."

* * *

Iris was curled up on the sofa, her eyes attached to the television screen. The Unovan Broadcast News station was covering the arraignment; their reporter, Julia, was outside the courthouse, recounting the details of the assassination attempt two weeks earlier. Hearing the story retold unnerved Iris, though she kept her expression even.

Cilan entered the room, carrying a simple plate of sliced, peppered tomatoes for him and Iris to share. He glanced at the screen before locking his gaze on Iris.

"What are you hoping for the outcome to be?" he asked. Iris turned an eye toward him.

"Can't say," she said. "I'm not even entirely sure what an 'arraignment' is."

"The judge lists the charges, and the defendant enters his pleas."

"Oh... I don't know." Iris looked back at the screen. "I don't know what to think."

"Well, personally-" He stopped short, hearing the door to their living room open and shut. "Was Paul coming today?"

"No." The couple perked up, recognizing the voice. Trip soon appeared in the doorway. "Just his blond rip-off."

"Trip!" Iris beamed.

"What a pleasant surprise," Cilan added. "What brings you here?"

"I want to take photos of Iris watching the arraignment," Trip answered, pointing to the camera hanging around his neck. "I tried to call your cell phone, Iris, but as usual, you didn't answer."

"Sorry," Iris apologized, sounding a little sheepish. "I'm not a tech person."

"I know. I'd have better luck addressing a letter to you, sticking it in a bottle, and letting it drift away in the ocean with the hope that it would one day find you."

"Okay, I'm not _that_ bad at technology." Iris rolled her eyes. "And that doesn't even make sense. There isn't an ocean between here and your apartment."

"Exactly. That should really tell you something."

"Why do you want to take photos of me watching the arraignment, anyway?" Iris refocused the conversation, unraveling her legs so she didn't look so vulnerable.

"Because the public hasn't seen your face in two weeks," Trip replied. "The last set of photos I marked for media release were from your inauguration. Statements and press releases from your office are nice, but I think the outside world would like to see you and not words on a page or screen."

"Believe me, if I could go outside, I would. And by outside, I mean out of the city," Iris said. "In fact, I'd like to crash a bus and fake my death and disappear into the wilderness for four months."

Trip raised his eyebrows, looking toward Cilan.

"She has cabin fever," Cilan explained. "The incident at the inauguration has, unfortunately, limited her ability to leave the building lest she risk her safety. And you and I both know Iris was never meant to stay indoors."

"Yeah," she agreed, grumbling.

"I am, however, considering reconnecting our phone in the next few days," Cilan continued. "It'll have been several weeks since the incident, so I'm hoping the amount of incoming calls will have died off. We can't stay closed off forever."

"Mmm..." Trip hummed. "Well, I come bearing gifts."

"Gifts?" Iris inquired.

"Agent Gray, the woman who's been watching your mail, gave me this and told me to give it to you." Trip pulled a package from beneath his arm and looked at the mail address. "It's from... the Pokémon Inspection Agency?"

"Oh!" Iris's eyes lit up. "I've been expecting that."

She stood up and retrieved from the package from Trip. Cilan furrowed his eyebrows.

"The PIA?" he mused as Iris passed by him. He set the plate of tomatoes down. "Why would the PIA send you a package?"

"Sorry, but what's the PIA?" Trip asked.

"The bane of every gym leader's existence," Cilan said.

"They evaluate gym leaders and gyms to make sure they're up to league standards," Iris added, sitting back down. "I called the one in Unova and asked them to mail me copies of their most recent evaluations."

"You called someone? Amazing." Trip shook his head. "Cilan, why are they 'the bane of every gym leader's existence'?"

"They are not," Iris interjected, scoffing.

"They were for us," Cilan said.

"You and your brothers?" Trip inquired.

"The PIA evaluates gyms in the three areas: safety, aesthetic appeal, and of course, the abilities of the gym leader, or gym leaders. If anything isn't up to standard, the PIA can shut down the gym," Cilan explained. "The PIA comes by at least once a year to perform an evaluation. The safety and the aesthetic appeal are simple enough, but the PIA will often measure the abilities of gym leaders via a battle. They also watch gym leaders' win rates."

"Win rates?"

"Gym leaders are required to keep track of their wins and losses against challengers and report them to the PIA at the end of every month. The PIA then calculates the gym's total win rate," Cilan went on. "The Striaton Gym was always up to standard in terms of safety and aesthetic appeal, but there were a few times our win rate was so low that PIA warned us we needed to pull it up. Between 60 and 70 percent is considered ideal. You don't want your win rate to be too high, either. The goal is to let challengers earn gym badges and enter the league, even if they have to battle and lose against a gym leader multiple times."

"I'm guessing the Striaton Gym's low win rate was compliments of Chili Griffith?" Trip asked.

"Well, I don't want to single any of us out. We all lost battles."

"Uh-huh..." Trip trailed off. "Iris, why do you want the PIA's evaluations?"

"To see the win rates, actually." She tore open the package and pulled out the stack of files inside. "I'm still looking for an Elite Four member, remember?"

Iris thumbed through the alphabetically organized labels until she found the one she wanted. She pulled it out of the stack and began reading through it. Cilan and Trip exchanged quick glances.

"... It seems you already know who you're looking for," Cilan remarked.

"Hm? Well, it's just an option," Iris dismissed. She pulled her legs close to her again.

"Who are you looking at, anyway?" Trip asked.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Iris smiled wryly.

"I would, actually." Trip attempted to look over shoulders, but she hunched them, so he couldn't see. "Why so secretive?"

"Because-" She stopped short, caught by surprise when Cilan leaned over from the other end and, gently folding the paper back, read its label.

"I. Icirrus Gym. You're looking at Georgia Hamilton?" Cilan sounded and appeared surprised.

"_Georgia?_" Trip appalled. "Your old rival?"

"I know Alder dropped her name when we met with him and Drayden earlier this week, but I didn't think you'd actually consider it," Cilan added. "You and Georgia have... quite a contentious relationship. Even after she helped us that time seven years ago, you two still tended to get rather saucy with each other whenever you met."

Iris frowned, annoyed. She pulled the file close to her chest, so they couldn't read more.

"Leaf said to pick someone who would be willing to disagree with me and not quit," she stated simply. "Georgia would be more than happy to disagree with me, and she would be too stubborn to quit."

"Accountability is something Leaf needs, not you," Trip pointed out.

"I'm capable of making bad decisions," Iris protested.

"I'm not sure that's something you want to lay claim to," Trip countered. "Name one thing you're planning on doing that might require someone to check your power."

"Well..." Iris drawled. "I know I'm planning on supporting Drew and the others in the CIU. We already talked a little bit about it, but he said he needs some time to get things in order before we meet about it more formally, I guess."

"Arceus, Iris, you're out of control," Trip began sarcastically. "How dare you consider bringing contests to Unova, which would increase tourism and boost the economy?"

"Truly a malevolent pursuit," Cilan added with a more playful measure of the same sarcasm.

"Quit it, you two." Iris glowered at them. "The CIU is just one thing. I mean, I'm also adding a G-Men branch to Unova, and I'm going to join Leaf and Paul in figuring out how to... well, fix everything that's wrong with the league and the government. Those are really big things, things that could have a huge impact on not just people in Unova, but everyone in Napaj."

Both Cilan and Trip remained quiet for a long moment. Then, Trip cleared his throat.

"So, what's Georgia's win rate?"

Iris blinked. She pulled the file, now slightly crinkled, away from her to look at it.

"Eighty-eight percent," she answered.

"That's..." Cilan began carefully, "... far too high."

"For a gym leader? Yes," Iris agreed. "For an Elite Four member, though? I think it's exactly what you would want."

_**May 22nd, 2009. Afternoon. New Bark Town.**_

Lyra was surprised when she returned to her apartment, a paper grocery bag in her arms, to find Silver sitting on the sofa and the television screen on. It wasn't that Silver didn't watch television—in fact, he had a guilty pleasure for the animated series, "Proteam Omega," something Khoury also enjoyed, but she had never cared for—but instead of mecha robots on the screen, there was a courtroom.

"What is this?" Lyra asked, setting down the groceries on the table.

"The arraignment for Barret Dunstan," Silver answered shortly.

"Who?"

"The guy who tried to kill Iris Ajagara," he elaborated.

"Oh..." Lyra plopped down beside Silver. He cast her a quick glance before looking back at the screen.

"_This is a case of the region of Unova, Napaj, verses Barret Dunstan. Are you Barret Dunstan?_" the judge began, looking at the defendant above her square glasses.

"_..._" Barret remained silent, his lips pressed into a hard line, the crease along his brow staying firm.

"_Mr. Dunstan?_" The judge's ire showed in her voice.

"_Yes,_" he finally answered.

"_Thank you. Mr. Dunstan._" The judge shuffled through some files. "_Are you correctly named in the indictment with your name spelled correctly?_"

"_Yes._"

"_Would you like me to formally read the indictment/information to you on the record?_"

"_No._"

"_Do you waive formal reading of the indictment?_"

"_Yes._"

"_Would you advise the defendant of the statutory penalties that would apply if he were to be convicted on these charges?_" The judge turned toward the prosecutor, addressing the question to him.

"_Yes, your honor,_" the prosecutor answered.

"_Do you generally understand what you've been charged with?_" The judge turned back toward the defendant. "_How do you plead to Count I, trespassing on a private property?_"

"_Not guilty._"

"_How do you plead to Count II, concealed carry of a firearm without permit?_"

"_Not guilty._"

"_How do you plead to Count III, first-degree attempted murder?_"

Barret was silent for a long moment. He looked directly at the judge, his eyes burning.

"_Not guilty._"

"_Your pleas of not guilty are accepted. This case is scheduled for trial before the Honorable Gina Masayoshi on Thursday, June 11th, 2009._"

Silver picked up the remote and clicked off the television set. Silence hung between them for a long moment. Then, Lyra brushed a loose piece of hair out of her face and said, "You know... you've been more interested in this Iris Ajagara case than I would've thought."

"It was an assassination attempt. It's a big deal." Silver shrugged it off. He stood and headed for the groceries, bringing them into the kitchen. He began to put her purchases away in the fridge and cupboard, an unexpectedly nice gesture from him.

"Yeah, but... I kind of got the impression you don't like the G-Men," Lyra persisted.

"So?" Silver raised an eyebrow.

"Iris's office just announced last week that it was going to bring the G-Men to Unova."

"I know."

"Then what's the deal?" Lyra asked.

"Personally, I don't have a problem with Iris."

Lyra tilted her head, suspicious.

"You make it sound like you know her."

Silver stopped. He looked directly at Lyra, his expression deadpan.

"I don't."

_**May 22nd, 2009. Afternoon. Opelucid City.**_

"Not guilty?" Barry guffawed. "How can he plead not guilty? There are videos and pictures of him going up to the stage with a gun! How's he gonna fight that, huh? I would've tried to take a plea deal if I were him..."

Most of the CIU staff were gathered near the television, the area of which had turned into a type of lounge with a couple sofas and a coffee table. They had spent the morning settling into the office, which Drew had officially leased yesterday. They took a break, however, to watch the arraignment unfold. It had ended several minutes earlier, and now the news commentators were chiming in with their opinions regarding the future of the trial.

"His lawyer will likely argue the intent wasn't to murder Ms. Ajagara," Savannah said.

"If not that, then what?" Grace asked.

"I'm sure he or she will figure it out," Savannah said with a wave of her hand. "Lawyers are very sneaky people."

"I guess that means we ought to keep our eyes on you, huh?" Kelly teased.

"Oh... I suppose so!" Savannah laughed sheepishly.

"_When we return from the break, we'll hear about a Minccino that brutally attacked its trainer yesterday, hospitalizing him with multiple injuries._" The anchor turned back toward the camera, away from the commentators.

"Whoa, now there's something you don't hear every day," Kelly mumbled. "A Pokémon hospitalizing its own trainer?"

"Well, looks like they're done discussing the arraignment." Zoey picked up the remote and turned off the television.

"Wait, wait." Kenny scrambled to stand. "You don't want to hear about the Minccino hospitalizing its trainer?"

"Not particularly, no," Zoey replied dryly. "I've had my fill of bad things in the world for today."

"Have you ever seen a Minccino before, though?" Kenny persisted. "They're tiny little Normal-types! How would it have been able to hurt its trainer enough to hospitalize him? It's like a Pidgey sending an Ursaring to the ICU in the Pokémon Center."

"Oh, you're such a boy," Zoey scoffed, handing the remote back to him, much to his delight. "You know, it's people like you who are the reason journalism has gone downhill."

"Mmm, _sensationalism,_" Ursula hummed. "Barry, you'd know all about that, wouldn't you?"

"Hey, don't cross that line." Kenny turned and glared at her. He had just reclaimed his seat and turned the television back on. The commercials were still running.

"Yeah, let's not get into that," May added with a nervous laugh.

"Shh!" Barry abruptly hushed the group, as though he hadn't heard a word of what was said. "It's starting again."

"_Welcome back,_" the anchor began smoothly. "_Unusual story just outside Nimbasa City yesterday morning—a Minccino allegedly attacked its own trainer, Adam Than, in a brutal manner, causing disfigurement to his face as well as several other lacerations requiring treatment at the Nimbasa City Hospital._"

"Arceus," Kenny appalled. "It's worse than I thought. Face disfigurement?"

"That is pretty unusual..." May trailed off. "Gee, and Minccino are so cute. It's hard to imagine one could do something like that."

"They're a pretty tame species, too," Conway remarked. "It's certainly something you wouldn't expect from this type of Pokémon."

"No doubt that poor Minccino was abused," Ursula spat, looking disgusted.

"You don't know that," Brianna said quietly, looking up. She had a sketchpad on her lap, which she had been using to draw throughout the broadcast of the arraignment.

"For it to attack its own trainer like that? Yeah, it was." Ursula maintained her stance.

"It could've been sick," Chaz pointed out. His wife, Janet, nodded in agreement.

"Sick how?" Ursula asked.

"Like, in the head," Chaz elaborated.

"_The Minccino has been quarantined, and it will be sent to a rehabilitation facility, where it will be studied to see what could have prompted the attack,_" the anchor continued. "_Than is recovering this afternoon, and it's expected he will be okay, though he will need facial reconstruction surgery to replace his nose. His family has set up a donation pool online to cover the costs of the surgery. Yesterday, they released a short, minute-long video showing the injuries inflicted upon their son, and UBS obtained a copy of the tape this morning. A warning to our viewers: It is graphic._"

"Okay, I'm leaving..." May paled and looked away when the video began playing. She stood up, smoothing out a wrinkle in her skirt.

"Me too." Tim stood up with her. "This kind of thing makes me squeamish."

As he and May left the lounge area, Dawn and Drew came through the entrance into the office. May's face lit up when she saw them.

"Hi," she cheerfully greeted them. "How did the meeting with Don George go?"

"Really well," Drew answered. "We set—Why is there a man with a missing nose on the television?"

Both May and Tim glanced behind them. Dawn glanced at the screen, too, and squicked.

"Oh... a Minccino attacked its trainer, and we apparently are interested in that," May explained.

"Schadenfreude at its best, I suppose?" Dawn shook her head, clearing her mind of the images.

"What about the meeting with Don George, though?" Tim inquired.

"Right. Big news. We need to meet," Drew said.

"The entire staff?" May asked.

"Yes, the whole staff." Drew pressed through her and Tim, toward the group gathered around the television. "Sorry to break this party up, but Dawn and I just got back from our meeting with Don George, and now I have news more relevant than a Minccino taking off its trainer's nose."

Kenny retrieved the remote again, turning the television off.

"What's up, chief?" he asked. When Drew gave him a pointed look, he quickly and sheepishly said, "Sorry," remembering Drew's aversion to the 'chief' title.

Realizing he now had the full attention of the staff, Drew cleared his throat and said, "I'm pleased to announce that the Don George Battle Club is willing to partner with the APC to host contests, and they have also agreed to provide a venue for our Q&amp;A event."

A happy breath swept across the group, and May asked, "When and where?"

"At the battle club here in Opelucid, on June 18th," Drew answered. "That's the scary part, because June 18th is only three and a half weeks away. That means we have less than thirty days to pull this event together, and it's gonna be a time crunch, but Dawn and I think we can do it. Conway, how soon can we launch the website?"

"It's nearly done," Conway answered, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I just need the logo and other designs completed. Janet and Chaz have the copy mostly written and edited, too."

"Brianna, what's your progress on the logo?" Drew asked.

"Ah..." Brianna fumbled with her sketchbook. "I've got some ideas down, and I think I can have a final logo completed within the next couple of days. Would that be okay, Mr. Drew?"

"That would be great. Thank you." He looked back toward Conway. "After that's finished, we need to set an official date for the website release. Brianna, when you're finished with the logo, please email it to Ursula, too, so she can use it for our Twitter and Facebook profiles."

"Will do, Mr. Drew."

"Zoey, when that website launches, I'm going to need a media release going out the same day," Drew continued.

"It would be better to send a media release the day prior and ask them to hold on publishing until the next day," Zoey contended. "That way, it'll be in the papers when people wake up."

"Yes. Do that instead," Drew said. "Kenny, Barry—I need advertising for the campaign and event lined up same day, too. Which means we're going to need some radio commercials, among other things, written soon, Janet and Chaz. Brianna, after you finish the logo, start designing ads."

"We'll take care of it," Kenny assured him.

"Right," Janet added, and Brianna offered a quick nod.

"Dawn, you know you'll need to schedule the speakers ASAP," Drew said, turning toward her.

"Mhm," Dawn hummed.

"May, we're going to need to talk about how we can staff the Q&amp;A event—if we can get volunteers, or if some of us are going have to pull double duty," Drew went on. "Kelly, you'll need to have the PokéBlock and other things to sell ready by June 18th, and you should talk with Tim about finances. Anthony and Grace, you should also meet to figure out how we're going to manage the event and what resources we're going to need to make sure our guests and speakers are comfortable and safe. Savannah—please make sure we are not breaking any laws."

"Of course!" Savannah said, beaming. The others mentioned also sounded their agreement.

"Okay, I'm assuming you all know what you need to do," Drew said finally. "You should not be bored, and if you are, talk to me, because I'm sure someone will need help somewhere. Are we good?"

"As good as May's soul," Kenny replied.

"All right," Drew breathed. "Then let's get to work."

_**May 22nd, 2009. Afternoon. Indigo Plateau.**_

"Okay, sonny," Charles Goodshow began with a grin, handing Olivier a clipboard and pen. "Just sign this, and you'll be ready to go."

Olivier accepted the clipboard and pen, clicking the round tip as his eyes scanned the one-page contract for a temporary employee of the league. They stood in Leaf's office, in front of the Champion's desk, yet Leaf herself occupied her old seat near the bookcase. After Olivier finished reading, he signed and dated his name at the bottom of the contract and gave it back to Mr. Goodshow.

"Congratulations," Charles said. "You're gonna be reffing for the 2009 Kanto Conference Elite Four matches!"

"It is an honor." Olivier smiled before looking above the old man's shoulder, at Leaf. "Thank you, Ms. Greene, for the opportunity."

"Don't thank me," Leaf said, rising to her feet. "Thank your friend, Ritchie. He recommended you to me."

"Ritchie Jayne?" Olivier inquired, and Leaf nodded. Olivier added, "Really good guy. Talented ref, too, even though he's new in the business."

"Yeah," Leaf let out a short laugh. "Tell that to him."

"All right, Olivier," Charles jumped back into the conversation. "The first match begins at 11:00 a.m. Monday, so you'll be expected to report to the stadium bright and early by 8 a.m. Do you still have the authorization pass I gave you?"

Olivier nodded, pulling it out of his back pocket and showing it to him. Charles had snagged one of the Kanto League photographers to take a portrait of him earlier, and he had printed it out.

"Good. Don't lose that," Charles said. "Take it to Gate 6 on the northeast side of the stadium, where all employees check in. If you run into any issues, you have my number, and you can call me."

"Will do, Mr. Goodshow." Olivier turned to leave. "I'll see you on Monday. Thank you again, Ms. Greene."

He shook both of their hands before heading out of the office. Leaf tilted her head and placed her hands on her hips, letting out a sigh as she watched him go.

"Well, Ms. Greene, I gotta say," Charles whistled, "I think you picked a real winner."

"I hope so."

"You don't like him?"

"No, I like him. He's a pleasant person, and he seems eager," Leaf tacitly replied. "I think those are good signs."

"I agree." Charles nodded. "Well! Gotta get back to work! I'm sure I'll be speaking to you again soon, Ms. Greene." He waved to Leaf before he, too, made his exit. Just after he left, however, Gary came strolling through the same doorway.

"Hey." Leaf sounded pleasantly surprised. "I didn't know you were coming."

"Thought I might drop by." Gary pecked her on the lips before holding out a plastic bag toward her. "I brought you take-out."

"Ugh, you're a lifesaver." She fell back onto the sofa, taking her to-go box and a plastic fork out of the bag. Gary did the same and sat beside her.

"So, did you watch the arraignment today?" Gary asked, mixing his entrée with his rice.

"Nope," Leaf answered shortly. "Been too busy working. What happened?"

"Barret Dunstan plead not guilty to all charges."

"Eh." Leaf shrugged. "I wouldn't have expected anything else. I'm not worried. I don't doubt he'll be convicted and put away for life."

Gary raised an eyebrow.

"Did you finally get your ref?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Yes. Olivier agreed, and he signed his contract." Leaf stuck her fork into a piece of chicken, bringing it to her lips. "Now we'll just have to see if he measures up."

_**May 22nd, 2009. Afternoon. Lumiose City.**_

Serena surveyed the tables when she entered Café Soleil, unsure whether Bonnie and Clemont had arrived yet. She was a few minutes early, and the Liscio siblings tended to be late, if only because Clemont was one of the slowest people Serena had ever met. Yet, she was delighted when she heard Bonnie call her name, and Serena turned toward her voice and saw the teen waving at her.

"Hey, you two!" Serena beamed as she slid into an open seat.

"Happy birthday," Clemont said.

"Thank you," Serena replied, setting her bag down by her feet.

"So," Bonnie drawled, leaning over the table, toward Serena, "how does it feel to be 21?"

"The same as 20, to be honest," Serena answered, letting out a laugh. She picked up her menu, scanning her options.

"How's your day been so far?" Clemont asked.

"It's been pretty good," Serena said. "My mom got me up early for breakfast, but otherwise, it's been a relief to be able to lay back and breathe for once. I'm so glad it's summer and school's out."

"She didn't tell you anything, did she?"

"No." Serena drew out the 'o' sound, craning an eyebrow.

"_Bonnie_." Clemont lowered his voice to a half-whisper.

"What? Just wondering," Bonnie said innocently.

A brief silence fell. Bonnie and Clemont kept their side eyes locked on one another. Bonnie shifted in her seat, while Clemont folded his arms. Serena turned a page in her menu, aware of the sibling standoff but ignoring it.

"Oh come on, Clemont, let's give it to her now!" Bonnie finally exclaimed. "It's dumb to wait until after we're done eating!"

"No, Bonnie, we agreed to give it to her _after_ lunch," Clemont emphasized.

Serena let out a sigh, setting down her menu.

"You guys didn't have to get anything for me," she said.

"No, we _had_ to get this for you," Bonnie insisted.

"We really thought you would love it," Clemont added.

"Love what?"

Clemont mentally stumbled, realizing his error. He cast a quick glanced at Bonnie, who was smirking. Clemont frowned and sighed, but eventually smiled, too. He turned to reach into one of the outer pockets of his Clemontic Gear.

"Well..." he began slowly, carefully, "_I_ wanted to wait to give you this later, because I wasn't sure how you'd react, but..."

He pulled a square, white box out and laid it in front of Serena.

"... Happy birthday!" Bonnie excitedly finished.

"Go ahead. Open it," Clemont prodded.

Serena put on a hesitant smile as she reached for the gift. It had no ribbon; only a lid. So, she was easily able to open the box and see there were a total of six tickets inside.

"Oh..." Serena breathed in sharply. "Oh, you guys... Are these ... ?"

"A trio of plane tickets to Kanto and passes to the Indigo Conference Elite Four matches?" Bonnie finished for her. "Yup! They are! We thought it might be fun to spend the summer there and see Ash compete!"

"I can't believe this." Serena shook her head before a grin spread across her face. "How did you even afford this?"

"Your mom chipped in," Clemont admitted. "So this gift is partially from her, too. But, seeing how excited you and Bonnie were after Ash won the Indigo Conference, it gave me an idea. I knew your birthday was coming up in a month, and when I told your mom and Bonnie about it, they were ecstatic."

"So it was your idea?" Serena asked.

"Well..."

"It was completely his idea," Bonnie answered for her brother, knowing he would try to brush it off or only take partial credit.

"Clemont..." Clutching the box in one hand, Serena leaned across the table and kissed him on the cheek, causing him to turn pink. "Thank you! To both of you."

"I-It was nothing," Clemont stammered, trying to shake off the affectionate gesture. "We're glad you like it."

"Have you told Ash yet?" Serena asked.

"Nope!" Bonnie proudly declared. "We thought you might want to do it when you guys talk tonight!"

"Wow, this is..." Serena let out a nervous laugh. "This is great. I'm really excited! The last time I was in Napaj was when I was still a kid, and I loved it then."

"That's when you met Ash, isn't it?" Bonnie asked.

"It is," Serena answered, nodding.

"Good afternoon, miss." The waiter swept by, coming to attend to Serena. "Is there anything I can get for you?"

"Oh!" Serena picked her menu back up. "Sorry. I got distracted, and I forgot that I still need to figure out what I'm ordering... Gee, I don't even know if I can eat anymore!"

Clemont let on a exasperated smile.

"And _this_ is why I wanted to wait until after lunch," he said.

_**May 22nd, 2009. Evening. Pallet Town.**_

"Oh Ash, you don't have to do that," Delia scolded when she walked into the kitchen and saw her son washing the dishes they'd used for dinner that evening. "You worked hard training all day. I don't expect you to do chores."

Ash winced, but he didn't step away from the sink.

"Sorry," he apologized, grinning sheepishly. "Just tryin' to make things easier for you and Mimey. I need to go in a few minutes, and I don't want to leave a mess."

"Go?" Delia blinked. "Why?"

"It's Serena's birthday," Ash explained. "I told her the other day I'd call her around 3 p.m. her time, and that's about fifteen minutes away our time."

"Serena... She's the cute Kalosian brunette you traveled with several years ago?"

"That's her," Ash affirmed. "She's 21 today."

"Well, then you ought to get moving!" Delia pushed her son away from the sink, back into the living room. Pikachu and Mimey, who were both chatting on the sofa, halted their conversation and looked toward their trainers. "It's rude to be late!"

"Okay, okay, I'm going!" Ash laughed. He snatched his hat off the table and firmly placed it back on his head. Pikachu offered Mimey a quick goodbye in PokéSpeak before climbing onto Ash's shoulder.

"I love you," Delia told him. "Be safe on the walk home."

"I love you, too, Mom," Ash said, nodding. "And don't worry, I will."

He headed toward the door before giving his mother one last last wave. He then slipped outside and trotted down the steps of the porch, out into the dirt roadway.

Ash's favorite thing about Pallet Town would forever be the lack of street lights. At night, the roads were lit solely by the lights of homes lining the path and the moon and stars above. He slid his hands into his pockets and tilted his head toward the speckled sky. No, he didn't think he could ever live anywhere else. As much as he loved traveling to big cities all over the world, nothing else would ever be home.

Ash kicked a rock down the road. He reached into his back pocket for his key as he reached his bungalow, unlocking the front door. He flicked on the lights as he stepped inside, and then headed toward the video phone nestled in the corner. Pikachu hopped onto his trainer's lap as Ash pressed his finger to the list of numbers he'd printed and taped to the side of the cubicle. He scanned it, finding the one labeled 'Serena.'

He was surprised, however, when the video phone began ringing before he could even dial—an incoming call from the Lumiose City Gym. Ash furrowed his eyebrows and pressed the button to receive the call. Serena, Clemont, and Bonnie's faces appeared on the screen.

"Hey, you guys!" Ash reeled back, though he grinned.

"_Hi, Ash!_" Bonnie beamed back at him.

"I was actually just about to call your home, Serena," Ash said. "Guess it's a good thing you called first, 'cause I wouldn't have thought to ring up the Lumiose City Gym."

"_Right, sorry,_" Serena chuckled apologetically. "_I decided to have lunch with Clemont and Bonnie today._"

"_And we gave her something really cool!_" Bonnie added.

"_Bonnie, don't brag..._" Clemont gently chastised.

"_It is really cool, though!_" Bonnie huffed.

"What is it?" Ash asked.

"_Tell him, Serena!_" Bonnie encouraged.

"_Ah... well..._" Serena began shyly. "_The three of us have tickets to fly to Kanto on Sunday._"

"_And passes to see you battle the Elite Four in the Indigo Stadium!_" Bonnie excitedly added.

"What?! No way!"

"_Yes way!_" Bonnie grinned. "_We're gonna see you win the Championship title in person!_"

"This is great!" Ash exclaimed. "Wow, I feel like I haven't seen you guys in forever, and to know you'll be watching in the stands... Agh, it pumps me up!"

"Pika!" Pikachu chimed in, agreeing. He was just as excited their Kalosian friends were visiting.

"_We're looking forward to it, too,_" Clemont said.

"Oh man... I can't wait to introduce you to the others... Gary, Ritchie... Misty..." He added Misty's name carefully, suddenly sounding unsure. He hadn't seen or spoke to her since the night of Gary's thesis.

Serena's smile diminished, but Clemont and Bonnie remained unfazed.

"_Really? Do you think they'd want to meet us?_" Bonnie asked.

"Oh, for sure!" Ash snapped out of his brief spell of introspection. "They'd love you guys. Man, if only the whole gang was here... I'd love for all of you to meet."

"Y-Yeah," Serena replied, tucking a wave of her hair behind her ear.

"_Well, if you win the Championship, then you can throw a big party! And you can invite everyone, including us!_" Bonnie suggested.

Ash laughed before saying, "You guys are getting my hopes up really high."

"_And why shouldn't they be high? Go big or go home!_" Bonnie's Dedenne popped out of her purse, tittering in agreement.

"_Don't let anything other than victory be an option,_" Clemont advised. "_Then there's no way you can lose._"

"I'll keep that in mind." Ash paused, tilting his head. "Serena, you okay? You've kind of been quiet."

"_Oh! I'm fine._" Serena perked up, forcing a smile. "_I'm still recovering the shock, actually. It was only an hour or so ago that Clemont and Bonnie gave me the tickets..._"

"Yeah, I get that," Ash chuckled. "I'm probably gonna need some time to recover, too. Anyway, happy birthday. It'll be cool to tell you that in person when you come out here."

Serena let out a short laugh.

"_I look forward to it, Ash Ketchum._"

_**May 22nd, 2009. Evening. Icirrus City.**_

A scowl crossed Georgia's face when her phone rang. She had only just arrived back home twenty minutes earlier, and she was comfortably sprawled across her sofa, watching reports of Barret Dunstan's arraignment and a Minccino that that had taken off its trainers nose, among other things on the 24-hour news network. Nevertheless, she muted her television and grabbed her cell phone to answer the call.

"Hello?" she half-grumbled.

"_Hi. Is this... Georgia I'm speaking to?_"

Georgia furrowed her eyebrows. She recognized the voice.

"Yes... Iris?"

"_Yes, this is her._"

"Well, how are you doing, Madam Champion?" Georgia sat up, wearing a smirk on her face. "Anyone try to shoot you today?"

"_No, not today._" Iris didn't sound offended.

"Why are you calling?" Georgia dove straight to the point. She wasn't in the mood for chit-chat, especially not with Iris.

"_Well, I was looking at your PIA file earlier..._" Georgia felt a chill run through her spine at the mention of the PIA. It was never a good thing to hear about the PIA. "_...and I was just wondering if you and I could maybe meet sometime soon to discuss something. Monday at 3 p.m.?_"

Georgia pressed her lips into a hard line.

"Yeah. Monday at 3 is fine," she said curtly.

.

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	6. V: In Which Wallace Follows Suit

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.

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Chapter V: In Which Wallace Follows Suit

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_**May 25th, 2009. Morning. Opelucid City.**_

"The event is Thursday, June 18th," Dawn explained over the phone, pulling her legs closer to her as she sat on the couch. "Our guest speakers will show off an appeal when the event begins at 7 p.m., and then we'll transition into a Q&amp;A session. ... The only other speakers who have confirmed with me so far are Nando Libert and Abby Neill, so you would be the third. We're trying to get two more."

Paul overheard Dawn's conversation as he wandered out into the conjoined kitchen and living room. He headed for the cupboard and retrieved a box of cereal.

"Yes, the CIU will pay for the cost of flying and the hotel," Dawn affirmed. "... Really? You'll do it? Thank you do much! It's really an honor. ... Yes, we'll keep close contact. I'll talk to you later. Goodbye, and thank you again."

"Who was that?" Paul asked after the call ended, now heading for the the fridge.

"Robert Schemmel." Dawn stood and joined him in the kitchen.

"Who's he?"

"A four-time Top Coordinator from Hoenn," she answered. "We're really lucky to have him actually. Winning a Top Coordinator title once is incredible, but four times? His name alone will draw in a huge crowd for sure."

"And the other two?" Paul pulled out both a carton of orange juice and of milk.

"Nando and Abby?" Dawn inquired. "You know Nando. He won the Lily of the Valley Conference in 2005, I think? And he also has a Top Coordinator title from Sinnoh in 2006. So, it'll be cool to have his voice on the panel, because he's also a competitive trainer. As for Abby, she's a doctor who runs her own clinic in Hoenn, but she's legendary because she became Top Coordinator in her first season of competing, and then quit. I was actually surprised when she accepted; I thought Drew wasn't being realistic when he said he wanted her on the panel, but admittedly, he was right, and I was wrong."

"Who else are you hoping to get?" Paul got out a cup and bowl, filling the latter with cereal.

"Solidad and Harley."

"Mmm. I should have expected that," he said, now pouring himself a glass of milk. He then reached for the orange juice. "I would have thought they would have been the first to confirm, considering how close Solidad is with Drew."

"Me too," Dawn admitted. "I haven't been able to talk to either, though. They're probably just out of town. I'm not too worried about it. ... Paul, do you realize you're pouring orange juice into your cereal?"

"What?" Paul glanced down and uttered a short string of expletives, which was then followed with, "Not again."

Dawn laughed aloud as he took his soiled bowl of cereal to the sink and dumped it out. She added, "Wow, I would not have expected you of all people to have a May moment."

"Is that what we're calling them now?" Paul mumbled. "I was distracted talking to you."

"Yeah, speaking of which, you've never talked to me about the CIU until now."

"Well, I do have a vested interest in it succeeding," he said, washing out the bowl before starting again. "For Iris, and for you."

"For me?" Dawn blinked.

"You don't think I want to see you do well?" Paul craned an eyebrow.

"It's hard to tell sometimes." When he glowered at her, Dawn added, "That's a joke, Paul. Don't look so offended. I'm glad you care."

Paul said nothing. He retrieved a spoon and, leaning back against the counter, took his first bite of his newly prepared breakfast. Dawn, too, leaned back against the counter parallel to him, watching him carefully.

"You know," she began anew, "the CIU staff is getting together at the office to watch Ash's match with Will this morning. We'd love it if you came."

"I'll pass," Paul grunted.

"Are you watching it with Iris and Cilan instead?"

"No."

"Then why? It's not like you'd be out of the place. Drew, May, Barry, Kenny—they're all your friends. Even you and Zoey get along a lot better than you used to." Dawn sighed before adding, "I'm not trying to nag you. I'm just concerned, that's all."

"Concerned... how?" Paul asked flatly.

Dawn stayed silent for a moment, considering how she should approach this conversation.

"You're a reserved person. There's nothing wrong with that. I know you and I sometimes clash because of differences in how outgoing we are, you being an introvert, and me being an extrovert. I'm not saying you need to transform into a social Beautifly or anything like that," she prefaced. "But... I think you've been more withdrawn than usual lately. I don't know how you're acting around Iris and Cilan, because I'm not there. But I do know how you're acting around me."

"What are you getting at?" Paul lowered his hands.

"_Is_ something wrong?" Dawn asked, saying each word carefully, but firmly.

"... No."

"See, you tell me nothing's wrong, but I can very much feel that something is different," Dawn persisted. "This last year has been..."

"So, you think something is wrong?" Paul sounded annoyed now. "Nothing's wrong. I'm just the Champion now."

"Exactly. You're the Champion, and I think it's been really hard on you."

"Nothing's wrong."

"Paul..."

"_Nothing's wrong with me,_" Paul snapped, speaking more firmly. Dawn reeled back. Silence fell as Paul looked down into his bowl of cereal, scrapping together another spoonful.

"... Anyway, I can't go to the CIU office because I'm finally going to take a look at some of the reports my G-Men agent have been collecting from the local police agencies around here," he continued.

"Reports about what?"

"Team Plasma," Paul answered. "My agents have been combing through things, but... I want to see what they've found for myself. I've been busy trying to help Iris pull her new G-Men and Elite Four together that I haven't had the chance to look into the assassination more. But, since Iris hasn't decided on her new chief for the Unova division yet, I have some time."

"Well, good luck," Dawn said tacitly. "I have to go get dressed, so I can be to the CIU office in time for the match to begin."

She turned to leave, but hesitated. She changed her mind and reached up to kiss him. He still leaned in to kiss her back, and Dawn knew at least that was something with which she could work.

_**May 25th, 2009. Morning. Indigo Plateau.**_

'Iris and I wish you the best of luck in today's match. We'll be watching.'

'You're gonna be great! You have the CIU's full support!'

'Knock em dead today, Ash.'

Ash scrolled through these messages on his phone, which he had all received from the friends who couldn't be there that day—Cilan, May, Stephan, among many others, had all sent him support prior to when his match was supposed to begin that morning. He'd also heard encouraging words from those who could vocalize them, from Gary, Brock, Ritchie, and happily, his Kalosian friends whom had arrived in Kanto in the late afternoon yesterday by plane.

Ash exited his inbox to check the time. Sixteen minutes left.

He was back in the same waiting room in which he'd spent time before his final match in the Indigo Conference. He had only recently separated from his in-person supporters to go into the backstage area, and he was trying to calm his nerves. Ash didn't understand. He was excited prior to the last match; now, he was nervous. He wanted everything to fall into place, win or lose. He wanted to make sure Serena, Clemont, and Bonnie's trip to Kanto was well-worth it. He wanted to honor the hard work his Pokémon had put into training. He wanted things to be normal again between himself, Misty, and Leaf.

He glanced at the clock on his phone again, and then at the door. No one came through it. Pikachu looked up at his trainer understandingly, and he touched Ash's hand with his paw.

She wasn't going to come this time.

Ash snapped out of his thoughts at Pikachu's touch, and he grinned at his partner.

"Don't worry," he told him. "We're gonna win today. No matter what."

* * *

Misty gazed dully out at the empty field from the Champion Box, counting the minutes down as she occasionally checked the clock on the wall. There were still several minutes left until the match began at 11 a.m.

The Champion Box was more sparse than usual that day, with Will making last-minute preparations for his battle and Paul and Dawn in Unova. The other regulars—Lance, Gary, the unoccupied Elite Four members, and of course Leaf—were present, but the reduced crowd made the room feel emptier than it should have been.

"You've been quiet," Leaf commented, approaching Misty and standing beside her.

"I don't have anything to say," Misty replied, shrugging. "Your boyfriend hasn't even made any snide comments I can roll my eyes at."

"Sorry, I'll try harder," Gary spoke up from where he was sitting. He was on his PokéPad, scrolling through his newsfeed. True to her word, Misty rolled her eyes and looked back out at the field.

"Are you worried?" she asked after a moment, addressing Leaf.

"I don't know. Should I be?"

"Not about anything I've done, at least," Misty replied. "I've followed everything by the book since the last match, like you asked."

"That's a plus." Leaf smirked before adding, "And won't it be grand for you when he's finished with the Elite Four matches?"

"Thursday can't come soon enough," Misty agreed.

"Assuming Ash makes it that far," Lance groused. "Watch your biases, Misty. You have two other fellow Elite Four members present with matches over the next few days. Don't discourage them."

"It's no matter, Lance," Lorelei politely dismissed.

"Yeah, really," Gary added. "It's more... assuming the ref does a good job, eh Leaf?"

"Well, now I'm worried," Leaf grumbled, shaking her head.

"I thought you liked Olivier?" Lance inquired.

"I do, but I still would've wanted Ritchie," Leaf replied.

"Perhaps you can convince him during the month-long break between the Elite Four matches and the Championship match." Leaf snapped her head up in surprise and turned to see that Wallace had stepped into the room. Seeing Lance's piercing gaze, Wallace added, "Granted, if there is a Championship match."

"Wallace," Leaf began, blinking. "I didn't know you were going to be here today."

"I came to Kanto to take care of some business," Wallace explained. "I apologize for not letting you know in advance."

"Don't worry about it," Leaf said with a wave of her hand. "Is Winona with you?"

"No," Wallace answered, shaking his head. "She stayed in Hoenn to continue managing her gym in Fortree City. She doesn't like leaving it unattended; being away for Iris's inauguration earlier this month was enough for her."

"Well, we're happy to have you," Leaf said.

"Thank you." Wallace found an empty seat in the front row, only a couple feet away from Lance.

Leaf made eye contact with her former mentor and discreetly mouthed the words, "Did you know something about this?" Lance gave a noncommittal shrug in response and turned away. Leaf straightened up, giving him a strange look. She would have hoped, knowing him for more than a decade, that she had figured out how to tell the difference between when he was lying or hiding something from her and when he was just being Lance (was there a difference?), but she was still at a loss.

* * *

Serena stifled a yawn, turning her head away from her companions as she pressed her hand to her mouth.

She, along with Clemont and Bonnie, were sitting in the upper deck of the stadium, in the front row. While they were far away, they had a great view of the entire battlefield. She wasn't sure how Clemont had managed to snag such excellent seats. In fact, it was arguable their seats were better than those of Ash's other friends, whom they had met briefly that morning to see off Ash, but they separated as soon as Ash departed. His other friends were on the lower deck. Serena was grateful for that; they seemed nice enough, but she felt it would have been uncomfortable without Ash standing in as their sole connection.

"Tired?" Clemont asked with an amused smile.

"I'm still adjusting to the time difference," Serena admitted.

"Not surprising," Clemont said. "It's almost 5 a.m. in Kalos right now. We'd normally be getting up in several hours."

"Well, I'm not tired at all!" Bonnie proudly declared. She was pressed against the railing, and she threw her head back to speak to her brother and Serena with a grin. "The stadium is full of so much energy... so I'm full of energy!"

"Bonnie, you're always full of energy," Clemont said.

"What time is it?" Bonnie asked, ignoring her brother's comment.

"It's..." Clemont flicked his wrist over to check his watch. "It's 11 a.m. now, so it should be starting any-"

"_-Good morning all!_" The stadium PA kicked on, and the large video screen showed an old man dressed in a purple snapback and red sweater speaking into a microphone from the announcer box. "_My name is Charles Goodshow, and I'm the general manager of the Napajian Pokémon League. On behalf of the Indigo Elite Four, I'd like to welcome all you in the stadium and viewers watching 'round the world to the first match of 2009 post-Indigo Conference Elite Four Battles. Are you ready for a good show?_"

The stadium audience erupted into uproarious cheers.

"Kind of weird for them to call it a show..." Clemont remarked.

"His last name is Goodshow," Serena pointed out. "I think it's supposed to be a pun."

"_And my name is Rodger Gates, and I'll be your commentator for today's battle._" The screen shifted to a middle-aged, brown-haired male. "_On our left is the mysterious long-time member of the Elite Four, a Psychic-Type specialist, here's Will Pino!_"

Will sashayed into view, and he was warmly (and loudly) accepted by the stadium.

"_And to our right, the winner of the 2009 Indigo Conference, it's Ash Ketchum from Pallet Town!_"

Ash stepped onto the field, too, with Pikachu faithfully stationed on his shoulder.

"There he is," Clemont said, smiling.

"Go Ash!" Bonnie screamed over the railing, causing both Clemont and Serena to wince.

Once both trainers were in their designated boxes, the ref, Olivier, cast glances between both of them and asked, "Trainers, are you ready?"

"Of course," Will said graciously.

"Oh yeah," Ash agreed. He bumped fists with Pikachu before the Electric-type jumped to the ground beside him.

"Then begin!" Olivier declared.

"Join me in battle, Grumpig!"

"Krookodile, I choose you!"

Both of the opposing Pokémon appeared on the field. Grumpig stomped one of its hooves against the ground in anticipation, and Krookodile snapped its jaw before raising its head up high, attempting to intimidate his opponent. Grumpig was unfazed, despite the difference in size and imposing appearance of Krookodile.

"_Our first matchup: Krookodile versus Grumpig,_" the announcer said. "_Grumpig has long been a staple of Will's Psychic-type team, but we have yet to see Ash's Krookodile in action!_"

"Krookodile?" Bonnie blinked. "I didn't know Ash had one of those..."

Serena pressed her lips together as she reached into her purse, pulling out her Pokédex.

"_Krookodile, the Intimidation Pokemon,_" the machine recited. Clemont and Bonnie leaned over Serena's shoulder to listen. "_Krookodile never allow prey to escape. Their jaws are so powerful, they can crush the body of an automobile._"

"The Krookodile in your Pokédex looks different," Bonnie remarked. "Ash's is wearing... sunglasses?"

"Sounds like classic Ash, for him and his Pokémon to go against the grain," Clemont chuckled. "But, Krookodile is partially a Dark-type, so it's a good choice against a Psychic-type like Grumpig and, more to the point, a trainer that specializes in Psychic-types."

"You may have the first move, Mr. Ketchum," Will graciously offered.

"Thanks." Ash grinned. "All right, Krookodile, use Dig!"

Krookodile immediately burrowed into the soft earth.

"_And Ash begins by turning this into an underground battle!_" the announcer said. "_What will Will do?_"

"Bide your time, Grumpig," Will said calmly. Grumpig nodded, keeping his feet firmly planted. Will kept his eye on the battlefield, and when the earth began to rumble, he quickly ordered, "Now, use Protect!"

As soon as Krookodile burst from the ground, Grumpig's defensive forcefield appeared. Krookodile's head slammed into the shield, and he fell back.

"Grumpig, use Signal Beam now that Krookodile's close!"

Before Krookodile could stand or Ash could think to tell his Pokémon to dodge, Grumpig's multi-colored beam of light hit Krookodile squarely in the chest, pushing him further across the field. He fell flat on his jaw as the light faded.

"This is bad." Clemont frowned. "Bug-type moves are super effective against Dark-types."

"Krookodile, are you okay?" Ash called out. Krookodile was still on the ground, and Olivier was carefully watching, counting down the seconds.

"_Krookodile looks like it's in a rough spot! Can it pull through?_"

"Come on, Krookodile," Ash encouraged. "I know you can get up!"

Krookodile gritted his teeth and, slamming his clawed hands against the ground, staggered to his feet. Olivier nodded; the battle would continue.

"_Amazing! Krookodile is still able to battle!_"

Will raised his eyebrows, surprised Krookodile was able to stand after the direct hit it suffered. Grumpig frowned, but it didn't allow itself to become deterred.

"Okay, now use Crunch!" Ash ordered.

Krookodile immediately charged toward Grumpig, and Will ordered his Pokémon to dodge. Grumpig tried to jump out of the way, but Krookodile clamped down onto Grumpig's tail, prompting a high-pitched squeal from the Psychic-type. Krookodile threw its head back, holding firm to Grumpig, as it swung it around once, twice, before letting go of the tail, causing Grumpig to soar into the wall.

"Grumpig!" Will called out in concern. Yet, when the dust cleared, it was obvious Grumpig had been knocked out-cold. Still, Olivier waited a measured amount of time before making his call.

"Grumpig is unable to battle, so Krookodile is the winner!" he declared.

The crowd, which included the Kalosian trio, burst into cheers. Ash pumped his fist into the air with a "Yeah!", and Krookodile lumbered back to his trainer to celebrate. Will recalled Grumpig.

"Excellent work, my old friend," he said, speaking to the Pokéball. He then looked toward Ash, considering whom he should pick next.

"Ash has the upper hand!" Serena said excitedly, and Clemont nodded.

"One down, five more to go," he added.

_**May 25th, 2009. Late Morning. New Bark Town.**_

Silver brushed his fingers through his damp, red hair as he dropped his towel down to his shoulders. It was nice to be in a place where there was running water again. Yet, he also knew if he stayed too long, he would become spoiled, and it would be more difficult than needed when he inevitably left again. Silver hung the towel on the rack and reached for his shirt, wincing when he pulled the fabric over his head; the hot water had rendered certain areas of his skin sensitive.

Downstairs, he found Lyra humming to herself as she sliced up some apples in the kitchen. The television was tuned into the post-Indigo Conference matches, and Lyra occasionally looked up to see what was happening.

"I didn't know this was today," Silver said, stopping to watch the screen. Lyra blinked, turning her head to look at him.

"Yeah," she said, nodding. "First match of the Elite Four Battles."

"What are the standings?"

"Both sides are down to four Pokémon. Will recently knocked out Ash's Torkoal with his Slowbro," she answered. "I'm really pulling for Ash, though."

"You know Ash?" Silver raised an eyebrow.

"Well, _everyone_ knows Ash after that whole conspiracy with the G-Men way back," Lyra replied flippantly, "but, yes, I know him personally, too. We met before that whole thing happened, while I was traveling in Sinnoh with Khoury. I'm actually closer friends with one of his gal pals, Dawn. She's currently dating the Sinnoh Champion, Paul Rebolledo."

"You haven't told them about me, have you?"

"No. Why would I?" Lyra laughed. "That would be a weird conversation. 'So, there's this guy I know named Silver, and I met him after he stole a Pokémon from Professor Elm, and now he randomly shows up at my house sometimes to stay there for a month or two before disappearing again for an indefinite amount of time.' I think they would be very concerned about my life choices."

"Well, if you worded it that way, they would be," Silver grumbled.

"Why are you so concerned whether I would've told them about you or not, anyway?" She paused, remembering that Silver had said he went to see the Indigo Conference, but he hadn't explained why. "... Do you know Ash?"

A brief silence followed as Silver stared at her.

"No," he finally said, shaking his head. "It's like you said. Everyone knows Ash Ketchum after what happened seven years ago."

A round of cheers erupted in the stadium on the screen. It was now 4 vs. 3. Ash's Bayleef had knocked out Will's Slowbro.

_**May 25th, 2009. Morning. Opelucid City.**_

Paul kept the volume on his television low, and he only checked the screen every time he heard the audience's softened cheers, knowing it meant either one of Ash's Pokémon or Will's Pokémon had fainted. Otherwise, he spent his time clicking through the PDF files Agent Gray sent to him in a .zip package. Each file detailed a police report in which the mysterious Team Plasma was involved. All the reports through which he'd read shared a similar story: theft or attempted theft of Pokémon for the "greater purpose" of liberation.

Paul barely glanced up when Agent Gray entered the room, carrying a large box in her arms. She laid it on the coffee table before him, and Paul's lip twitched into a frown.

"What are those?" he asked.

"More reports," Agent Gray answered. "Some of the police stations in Unova are not digital-first yet. So, I asked them to to mail me copies."

A low growl emerged from the back of Paul's throat, annoyed by inconvenience. He set aside his laptop, plucking one of the paper files out of the box.

"Wasn't it lack of digital efficiency that nearly ruined the G-Men the first time?" he grumbled. "That's what Cynthia said."

"It was." Agent Gray nodded.

"Were you around then, Angela?" Paul raised an eyebrow.

"It was my first year, Mr. Rebolledo," she answered. "I was 21. The incident with Team Rocket was what propelled all the divisions to finish the transition to digital reporting, Sinnoh included."

Paul's lips tightened, and he averted his gaze. He wasn't aware she had been in the organization that long, long enough to see the conspiracy unravel from the inside.

"... I'm sure you have some interesting opinions about the Champion lineup then," he said.

Agent Gray was silent for a long moment. Then, she said, "I understand the G-Men's politics well, sir. If I didn't, I would have left with Cynthia."

Paul didn't know how to feel about that answer. He flicked open the yellow folder, scanning through the police report inside. Again, it dealt with theft. Paul sighed, closing the folder and tossing it onto the table.

"Maybe Cilan was right," he said. "Maybe Team Plasma being anti-league is the only reason one of their members tried to assassinate Iris..."

"Is there something wrong with that conclusion?" Agent Gray asked.

"No, but..." Paul trailed off. "I don't claim to be an expert, but I would think the larger organization would want to lay claim to the crime if the intention was to make a statement about 'Pokémon Liberation' or whatever their ridiculous mantra is."

"Perhaps they didn't because Barret Dunstan's attempt failed?"

"I guess," Paul said. "You've been monitoring Iris's mail, right?"

"Yes."

"And you haven't found anything?"

"No." Agent Gray shook her head. "I haven't screened her calls, though. Did anyone attempt to call her?"

"The public number for her office, the Opelucid Gym, has been disconnected for weeks," Paul said. "And her and Cilan's private cell phone numbers are just that: private. As if Iris ever answers her cell phone anyway."

"So we wouldn't know then?"

"No." Paul retrieved his laptop again. "I guess it doesn't matter, though. I can't find any crime worse than stealing in these reports. So, maybe Barret Dunstan acted alone, not under the instructions of some Plasma higher-up..."

"Well..."

"Well?"

"There is this one case..." Agent Gray reached into the box, thumbing through the files until she found the one she wanted and handed it to Paul. "Two years ago, a young man named Oscar Soul was hospitalized after an encounter with some members of Team Plasma. According to him, they did not try to steal his Pokemon. It was an attack; he was treated for a stab wound in his left shoulder, inflicted by one Plasma's Pawniard."

"His left shoulder?" Paul asked, and Agent Gray nodded. "Then they were aiming for the heart, which would..."

"Kill him, yes."

Paul furrowed his eyebrows. He opened the file, quickly reading through it.

"Will you run Oscar Soul's name through our system?" he asked.

"Already done."

"And... ?"

"No results."

"What does that mean?"

"Either he isn't registered as a trainer in Napaj, or he's registered under a different name," Agent Gray explained.

"Great," Paul mumbled sarcastically. He looked up toward the television when he heard another round of cheers. He hadn't been paying much attention to it while talking to Angela, but Ash now had two Pokémon while Will had one.

"Well done, Ketchum," Paul said.

* * *

"Noo!" Barry let out a dramatic cry and flopped against the couch when Ash's Greninja went down, meaning the battle was now 1 v. 1. The air in the office was tense. While Ash had started out with the upper hand, Will had battled back and brought the match to equal ground once more. His Gardevoir had taken no damage, and Ash had saved Pikachu for his last Pokémon.

"A little Pikachu verses the elegant power of a Gardevoir?" Ursula sneered as Ash sent Pikachu onto the field. "He's finished."

"Don't underestimate Ash's Pikachu," Dawn said.

"Pip-lup!" Piplup agreed with his trainer, his tone half-chastising Ursula for doubting his old friend.

"Yeah, Ash can still win!" May added.

"If he's lucky," Conway said, smirking.

"_Okay, Pikachu, let's start with Quick Attack!_" Ash called the first move of the final matchup.

"_Teleport, Gardevoir._"

Before Pikachu could make contact, Gardevoir vanished. Pikachu was visibly surprised as he skidded across the ground, into nothing. Gardevoir reappeared behind Pikachu.

"_Now, Gardevoir, use Focus Blast!_"

"_Quick, Pikachu, behind you!_"

Pikachu whipped he head around to see Gardevoir, and he barely managed to dodge the Focus Blast attack. In the CIU office, several audible sighs of relief were heard among the staff.

"_Let's try Electro Ball this time, Pikachu!_" Ash ordered.

"_Use Teleport once more, Gardevoir._" Again, Gardevoir disappeared before Electro Ball could hit it.

"This isn't good." Kenny frowned. "None of Ash's moves are connecting."

When Gardevoir appeared behind Pikachu again, Will quickly said, "_Gardevoir, use Charge Beam!_"

Pikachu was unable to dodge this time, and the bolt of electricity hit him directly. Yet, Ash smirked, causing Will to appear alarmed.

"Ouch." Kelly winced. "That's got to hurt."

"Don't be so sure," Drew said.

"What do you mean?" Kelly asked.

"Ash's Pikachu is kind of special," May explained. "It tends to get charged up when it's hit with Electric-type moves."

"_All right, Pikachu, now use Thunderbolt!_" Ash ordered.

Pikachu, whose cheeks were now sparking with extra electricity, unleashed his attack. There was nowhere on the field to where Gardevoir could escape the overwhelming show of power, and the screen briefly turned blank. When the field became visible again, Gardevoir had dropped to one of her knees, having taken a lot of damage.

"_Now use Iron Tail!_"

"_Teleport, Gardevoir!_" A hint of desperation was in Will's voice. Yet, Gardevoir was too weak to muster up the energy needed to Teleport, and Pikachu's now silver-colored tail hit the Psychic-type squarely on the head. Gardevoir fell back, out-cold.

"_Will's Gardevoir is unable to battle, so the victory goes to Ash!_" Olivier declared.

May let out a high-pitched squeal before promptly slapping her hand over her mouth. She was joined with other happy cheers and a few disbelieving utterances of "_What?_"

"I knew Ash had this in the bag," Kenny said, bumping fists with Barry.

"It was a lucky break," Conway dismissed. "Will made a mistake in using Charge Beam. Ash's Pikachu obviously has the Lightning Rod ability, which draws Electric-type attacks and raises Special Attack when hit by one. If Will had known that, he wouldn't have used Charge Beam, and Ash would have lost."

"Ash's Pikachu's ability is Static," Dawn pointed out.

"But-"

"-Make as many excuses as you want, because all I saw was a good strategy on Ash's end. Ash knows his Pikachu, and saving Pikachu for Gardevoir, one of Will's strongest Pokémon who happens to know an Electric-type attack? It sounds to me like Ash did his homework, for once," Drew said.

"But the big question is, did he do it for the other three Elite Four members? He has to win against all of them in order to face Leaf... and that's when things will get _really_ interesting," Zoey said.

"True," Drew conceded. "Also, as much as I hate being a wet blanket, now that the match is over, we should get back to work. The website launches Friday, and we still have things we need to finish before then. Send your congratulatory messages to Ash, and then do what you need to do."

"Got it, chief," Kenny said, saluting him.

"Kenny, when will you learn?" Drew glowered at him.

The last thing that appeared on the screen was Ash shaking Will's hand before Barry turned it off. May pulled her cell phone out of her bag and, casting Drew a quick glance, said, "I'm going to tell Ash we watched and that we're super happy for him, m'kay?"

"All right," Drew chuckled, before turning his attention to Dawn, who had approached him looking as though she had something to say.

"Hey, I have news," she told him, Piplup in her arms. "Robert confirmed this morning."

"That's great."

"But-"

"-There's always a but, isn't there?" Drew wore an exasperated smile.

"-I still haven't been able to reach Solidad or Harley," Dawn finished.

"Really?" Drew raised an eyebrow.

"It goes straight to voice mail every time I call," she explained. "I've left messages but haven't heard back yet."

"Hmm..." Drew intoned, thinking. "Well, I'll tell you what: I'll worry about getting in contact with Solidad and Harley if you work on getting a meeting scheduled with Iris."

"Are we ready to talk with her?" Dawn asked.

"We should be. I'd liked to meet before Friday's launch," Drew said.

"Well, that should be easy enough," she said with a wave of her hand.

"Her office phone is disconnected, and I don't know when she and Cilan are turning it back on," he warned. "And she's slower than Ash when it comes to responding to messages left on her cell phone."

"Oh, I know. Iris and technology do not go together." Dawn smiled wryly as she balanced Piplup on her hip, pulled out her own cell phone, dialed a number, and pressed it to her ear. "That's why you call her _husband_."

* * *

"Well, it looks like Leaf's got a legitimate threat on her hands," Trip remarked, watching the television screen as Ash was greeted by a horde of reporters following the end of his match. He was sitting with Iris and Cilan in their living room, having watched the battle with the couple that morning.

"I'm not sure if Leaf thinks of Ash as a threat," Iris said thoughtfully.

"We'll see if that's still the case if he faces off against her," Trip said dryly.

"I mean, I'm not sure she's afraid to lose to him, so he's not a threat in that way," Iris clarified.

"Ash winning the Championship title via the post-Conference matches would be a huge step for the G-Men and league, because he would be the first to do it since Alder. That is, the first not to be chosen since Alder," Cilan added. "I think Leaf realizes that. Paul said she's been enforcing her league's impartiality policy and was spending a lot of time looking for a good referee. But..."

"But?" Trip asked.

"We don't know if Leaf really wants to give up her Championship title this soon," Iris continued. "Paul and I aren't sure what she hopes will be the outcome of all this. Maybe she doesn't know herself."

The conversation was cut short when Cilan's phone rang. Iris reached for the remote and turned the volume of the television low while he answered.

"Hello?" Cilan inquired. "Why, good morning, Dawn. It's always a pleasure to hear from you. ... Of course, I understand." He chuckled before holding his cell phone out to Iris. "It's for you."

Iris blinked in surprised and hesitantly accepted the device.

"Hi? Dawn?" Iris asked, pressed it to her ear. "... You're ready to meet? Yes, of course, I'd love to talk to you guys! ... Okay, we can meet before your website launches. I'm free all day Thursday. Would you like the morning or later? ... Sure, 11:00 a.m. would be fine! Cilan will be teaching at that time. I'm excited to see you guys! Bye-bye."

When she hung up and handed Cilan's phone back to him, he said, "So, the CIU movement is officially beginning?"

"On Friday, yup!" Iris replied.

"Unrelated, but I find it funny that even Dawn knows she has a better shot of talking to you if she calls your husband first and not you," Trip said.

Iris let out a nervous laugh before exchanging a quick glance with Cilan.

"Maybe... it's time we turned the office phone back on," she admitted.

_**May 25th, 2009. Noon. Slateport City.**_

Solidad's head rose when she heard the familiar ringtone of the 'match call' feature on her old PokéNav. She was in the middle of spreading some mayonnaise on her sandwich bread, but she set her kitchen knife down and went to find her traveling bag. She dug through the pockets and found the device, but raised an eyebrow when she realized it was Drew calling.

"Good afternoon, Drew," she said, answering.

"_Glad to hear you're still alive._"

"Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

"_Dawn said she hasn't been able to get in contact with either you or Harley._"

"Oh. Blame that on Harley," Solidad sighed. "He got really drunk Friday night and ran into the ocean with both of our phones, screaming some nonsense about government corruption and his struggles getting a date."

"_It sounds like there's a longer story behind this._"

"There is." Solidad returned to her unfinished sandwich.

"_Do I want to hear it?_"

"Probably not."

"_Then I'll pass on listening to this latest installment of Harley's misadventures._"

"A wise choice."

"_Is he at least sorry?_"

"Harley is never sorry." Solidad shook her head. "We're getting new phones tomorrow. I was in need of an update anyway."

"_Getting anything fancy?_"

"I was thinking about the new Xtransceiver, but I don't know. I'm not sure about wearing my phone on my wrist," Solidad answered. "I still think Devon Corp. makes some really solid PokéCells. I like the ones you and May have."

"_They work well._"

Solidad smiled and, putting her sandwich on a plate, meandered toward the sofa.

"So," she began, changing the subject as she sat down, "what did you call for?"

"_Right. Is Harley with you?_" Drew asked.

"He's somewhere." Solidad lowered her PokéNav and rose her voice to call for the said coordinator. "Harley, will you come into the living room?"

"I'm in the bath, hun!" Harley's distant voice called back.

"Drew wants to speak with us."

"Well, I don't want to speak with him!"

"Harley, put on a bathrobe and come out here." Solidad lifted her PokéNav again. "He's coming. Still, what's this about?"

"_Remember when I said I had some things in mind for for you and Harley when Contesta first told me about putting contests in Unova?_"

Solidad's lips twitched into a smile. She took a bite of her sandwich.

"I do, as a matter of fact," she said.

_**May 25th, 2009. Afternoon. Opelucid City.**_

"Hello, my name is Kenny-" He stopped short and made a face. "Oh. Another automated machine."

May cast Kenny a curious glance as he began impatiently tapping his fingers on the desk, waiting and listening to the robotic voice on the other end of the line rattle off extension numbers.

"Who are you calling?" she asked.

"The Goldenrod Radio Tower, to place an ad," Kenny answered, pulling his phone away to press a number. "I've been getting the run-around, though. I'm trying to figure out how much- oh hey, a human!" He stumbled, correcting himself. "Hi, my name is Kenny Hudson, and I'm wondering if I could get a quote for how much it would cost to air a commercial during DJ Mary's talkshow. ... When? Well, uh, I know this is last-minute, but we'd like for it to start airing this Friday. ... It's actually for a special event in Unova. You see, this hasn't been publicly announced yet, but the APC is working to establish contests in Unova, and our launch is Friday."

He pressed his lips together, listening.

"Oh, I understand. ... Wha-? Okay," he agreed, looking a little disgruntled.

"What's up?" Barry glanced up. He'd been calling around, too, also trying to place some ads in various places.

"The guys I'm talking to said their advertising schedule is full and has a waiting list, but he's apparently putting me in contact with someone who might be able to help us..." Kenny explained. He perked up when the other line picked up. "Hi, my name is Kenny- _DJ Mary?!_"

Kenny abruptly stood up, knocking over his chair, which drew a couple stares.

"Yes! Yes, the Contests in Unova thing is 100 percent real; we call ourselves the CIU. Our official launch is Friday, and on June 18th, we're hosting a Q&amp;A thing in Opelucid City with Top Coordinators. We wanted to air a commercial during your show to help get the word out," Kenny explained hurriedly, clearly flustered. "... You'd do that for us? Wow, thank you!"

People in the office we're not beginning to flock toward Kenny's desk, curious what was happening.

"It, uh, like I said, is June 18th in Opelucid City. It begins at 7 p.m. in the Opelucid Don George Battle Club, but doors open at 6 p.m.," Kenny explained, getting ahold of herself. "The Top Coordinators speaking..." He cast a desperate look toward Dawn.

"We have three confirmed: Robert, Nando, and Abby," she said.

"Correction. Five confirmed," Drew interjected, making his way into the circle that had gathered around Kenny's desk. "I just got off the phone with Solidad and Harley."

"We have five Top Coordinators on the panel," Kenny said, returning to his conversation with Mary. "Robert Schemmel, Nando Libert, Abby Neil, Solidad Natochenny, and Harley Rannells. ... Uh, yes, we're gonna have a donation pool, too!" Kenny was now looking at Kelly and Tim; Kelly quickly pulled out her phone, searching for the URL to give him.

"Sure, sure! I can just email that and all the other information to you, too," Kenny said, now gesturing for Kelly and Tim not to worry about it. He snatched a ballpoint pen, carefully writing the email down. "Thank you so much. You have no idea how much this means to our cause. Thank you."

As soon as he hung up, he breathed, as though in awe, and said, "Wow, I can't believe I just talked to _DJ Mary._"

"I didn't know you were a Mary fan, Kenny," Dawn teased.

"Who isn't?" Kenny scoffed. "What wouldn't a guy give for the chance to take her out on a date?"

"I don't know," Barry said, shrugging. "She isn't my type."

"Shut up, Barry." Kenny glowered at him.

"Yeah, and neither is a certain someone named Kyle," Ursula added with a derisive laugh.

"You too, Ursula," Kenny said, now glaring at her.

Ursula shrugged him off, adding, "Anyway, Mary's too old for you. She's in her early 30s now. She also has a history of mostly dating women, not men, and definitely not boys like you."

"Okay, let's get to the important point of this conversation, which is: What is Mary doing for us?" Drew asked.

"Since the radio stations commercial schedule is booked, she's gonna talk about the CIU and the Q&amp;A event _on her show_," Kenny answered. "For _free_."

"Ah!" May clapped her hands together happily. "That's great!"

"No kidding. I guess they're serious when they say she's the sweetest woman in radio," Zoey added.

"In other exciting news, we have a meeting with Iris on Thursday at 11 a.m.," Dawn said.

"Oh good," Drew breathed. "We needed that."

"Yeah, speaking of which, can we all come along?" May asked. "I mean, not the entire CIU staff, but... _us_." She made a sweeping gesture toward Dawn, Zoey, Kenny, Barry, and Drew. "Iris has been locked up inside her gym because of that whole craziness with her inauguration, and we've been so busy with the CIU that we haven't really seen her, and that's silly, because we're friends, and we're in the same city for once!"

"I'd be down for seeing Iris," Kenny said.

"Me too," Barry agreed.

"I don't have a problem with it," Drew said, shrugging. "Everything's on track."

"Yeah," Zoey chuckled. "We'll see how long that lasts."

* * *

The moment Cilan reconnected the office phone, it rang.

Iris winced, exchanging unsure glances with both him and Trip. That wasn't a good sign. Cilan gave Iris a questioning look, and she understood his silent inquiry of whether he should simply pull the plug again. But, she shook her head and, sucking in her breath, reached for the receiver.

"Hello?" Iris began tepidly. Trip sat down, and Cilan leaned against her desk, carefully watching her.

"_Good afternoon,_" a male on the other side of the line said. "I_ would like to make an appointment with Iris Ajagara._"

"You're speaking with her now."

"_Ah. It is an honor, Ms. Ajagara,_" he continued. "_My organization has been trying to get in contact with you for weeks._"

"Your organization?"

"_My apologies. My name is Elijah, and I work for SAMPLe, a start-up rescue and research organization for Pokémon._"

"SAMPLe?" Iris hesitated, not knowing what to do or how to respond. She supposed a meeting wouldn't hurt. At least it wasn't an interview; she was still unwilling to do one of those. "Um, when do you want to meet?"

"_Would this Thursday be acceptable to you?_"

"Uh, sure! I've got another meeting at 11 a.m., but we could meet before or after!" Iris said.

"_Before would be preferable. I have a flight in the afternoon._"

"Maybe... 10:30 a.m.?" Iris suggested.

"_That would be excellent. Thank you, Ms. Ajagara._"

Iris blinked in surprise when she heard a click. He'd hung up. She pulled the receiver away from her ear, looking at it in confusion. She had meant to ask why he wanted to meet with her, but she was stripped of the chance.

"What just happened?" Trip asked.

"I just made an appointment," Iris replied, still staring at the phone.

"With whom?" Cilan inquired.

"Uh... someone named Elijah from SAMPLe?"

"What's SAMPLe?" Trip raised an eyebrow.

"He said it was a start-up that rescues Pokémon," Iris explained.

"I've never heard of it." Trip shook his head.

"Well, yeah, it's a start-up," Iris said dryly.

"Iris, you can't make appointments with unknown organizations like that," Cilan said worriedly.

"Why not?"

"Because you don't what the intentions of said organizations are."

"I do know, though," Iris insisted. "SAMPLe is a rescue. You don't have to get all wound up about this, Cilan."

"It would put me at ease if you would at least have Paul or Agent Murray around," Cilan continued. "I'll be at the PCA campus for class at that time, so I won't be able to be there myself..."

Iris frowned, pouting.

"Fine," she huffed. Suddenly, she felt another spell of lightheadedness, and she stumbled.

"Iris?" Cilan sounded alarmed, and Trip turned tense too, as though he were about to spring out of his chair to catch Iris if she fell over. Cilan quickly laid a hand on her shoulder and wrapped a stabilizing arm around her. "We really ought to take you to a doctor."

"I'm okay," Iris dismissed. "I just woozy there for a moment."

"Let's at least get you something to drink before Georgia comes, okay?" Cilan gently prodded, and Iris nodded before he began to lead her out of the office.

* * *

"May I see your ID, miss?"

Georgia as stopped at the doors to the former Opelucid City Gym by a large, somewhat burly man. She recognized his face; he was one of the Sinnoan G-Men agents acting as security at the inauguration. She supposed she should have known they would still be around, considering what happened.

"Here." Georgia reached into her wallet and pulled out her driver's license. She felt as though she were trying to get into a 18+ club, which was laughable in the middle of the day.

"Ah. Georgia Hamilton," he said, handing her ID back to her. "Ms. Ajagara has been expecting you."

"I know," Georgia said dryly.

"There's an elevator across the field that will take you to the second floor," the agent went on, stepping aside. "Her office is down the hallway to your right."

"Thanks," Georgia mumbled, pushing the doors open and heading inside.

Georgia had been to the Opelucid Gym multiple times before then, but she could never get over how strange and dark the field was. The lighting always aired on the dim side, and the statues of Dragons against the four walls cast long shadows across the room. Georgia thought the atmosphere was far more fitting for Drayden than it was Iris, though both specialized in Dragon-types. At least the office and living quarters were far less eerie; there were plants everywhere, which was probably Iris and Cilan's decorative touch.

Georgia pressed the 'up' button on the elevator and stepped inside when the doors opened. She then pressed the button for the second floor and leaned against the bar to her left. The doors on the opposite end of elevator opened, and she headed out and down into the hallway.

The door to Iris's office was open. Yet, when she poked her head inside, she only saw Trip; no Iris.

"Come in," he half-mumbled, noticing her. "Iris'll be back in a couple minutes."

Georgia raised an eyebrow as she meandered inside.

"What, are you her secretary now, too?" she sassed. "Talk about a package deal: bodyguard, receptionist, and photographer all rolled into one. I hope she pays you well."

"I'm just her photographer," Trip corrected.

"Then where's your camera?"

"He was just here to watch the post-Indigo Conference matches with us today." Iris appeared in the doorway behind Georgia. "He doesn't work _all_ the time."

Georgia cast a glance over her shoulder at Iris, and their gazes briefly connected. Iris moved forward, around Georgia, and toward her desk.

"And now I think I'll escort myself out," Trip sighed as he stood and headed for the door. He shut it behind him.

Iris and Georgia waited in silence for a short moment. Then, Iris cleared her throat and said, "You can sit down."

Georgia did so, but said, "I know why you called me here, so let's just get straight to the point."

"You do?" Iris blinked.

"Yes," Georgia answered, folding her arms. "I know my win rate is too high. The PIA has been on my case about it already. I don't need you telling me I need to bring it down, too."

"I'm not here to harp on you about your win rate."

"You're... not?" Georgia sounded suspicious.

"No. I liked your win rate, actually."

"... Why?"

Iris hesitated, briefly averting her gaze.

"Well," she began slowly, "I'm sure you've heard by now that I'm looking for a new Elite Four member..."

Georgia stared.

"Excuse me?" she finally said.

"Ah, I'd like for you to replace Grimsley in the Unova Elite Four," Iris said, deciding to be upfront.

"Are you crazy?" Georgia laughed.

"You're a good trainer," Iris insisted, annoyed that Georgia didn't seem to be taking her seriously.

"Okay, sure," Georgia conceded. "But my win rate doesn't tell you that. It actually just shows I'm an asshole who doesn't like to lose. I barely temper myself against less-experienced trainers, unlike Elesa and other gym leaders who actually stay inside the PIA's golden range."

"I think it might be good to have an asshole who doesn't like to lose in the Elite Four."

"Is this a joke? Am I being filmed right now?" Georgia asked with an amused smile.

"No, it's serious," Iris said, still irate.

"Did literally every other gym leader in Unova turn you down or something?" Georgia continued. "I guess I wouldn't blame them, but still. I can't imagine why you would want _me_ of all people in _your_ Elite Four."

"I have my reasons."

"This ought to be good." Georgia crossed one leg over the other. "Let's hear them."

Iris mentally stumbled, looking at Georgia with wide eyes. Yet, Georgia only made a quick gesture with her hand, maintaining her invitation.

"Um..." Iris paused, thinking. "Well, do you remember that time seven years ago, when you helped my friends and I out?"

"Uh-huh..."

"I promised you that if you helped that I would be in your debt. This is a part of paying you back."

Georgia scoffed.

"That's a stupid reason," she said. "Try again."

"What do you want me to say?" Iris asked, exasperated.

"The truth," Georgia answered, shrugging.

Iris let out a frustrated breath of disbelief. Then, a short laugh.

"Fine, the truth," she said. "You said you wouldn't blame the other gym leaders if they turned me down. Why is that?"

"You're avoiding the topic," Georgia pointed out dryly.

"Just answer the question. And be honest."

Georgia was silent for a long moment. She brushed her bangs out of her eyes, suddenly appearing a little uncomfortable.

"You really want me to be honest?" she asked.

"Yes." Iris nodded.

Georgia inhaled sharply through her nose before she began to answer.

"You don't..." She was slow, and her tone took a more serious turn. "... deserve your title."

"I agree."

"What?" Now Georgia sounded confused.

"I agree, I don't deserve it," Iris clarified. "There was some... pressure to accept. A lot of people who aren't super close to the league don't see it, but there are a lot of things that are kind of backwards up here. My nomination kind of showed that, because it was really badly done. But... Leaf and Paul—my friends—we're here because we want to try to fix all the backwards things."

Georgia listened intently, not sure what to make of what she was hearing. She was still caught off guard Iris had admitted she didn't deserve the title.

"As... interesting as this is," Georgia began after a moment. "It still doesn't explain why you want me to be your new Elite Four member."

"Leaf said I needed someone who would hold me accountable and not quit," Iris explained. "I thought you'd fit the bill."

"Oh." Georgia's mouth formed a round shape. "So... you actually _are_ looking for an asshole for your Elite Four."

"Yeah, kind of," Iris half-laughed. "Do you accept or not?"

Georgia smacked her lips, considering it.

"You know," she said with a smirk, "why not?"

_**May 25th, 2009. Late Afternoon. Indigo Plateau.**_

"Well, I must say, Ms. Greene," Mr. Goodshow began cheerfully, bounding beside Leaf, who was wearing an uninterested expression, "I think today's match went spectacularly! Just great! Olivier was an excellent choice."

"Yup," Leaf said shortly. She had recently arrived back at the headquarters for the Indigo League and G-Men, and she was grumpy because Gary had left to celebrate with Ash and company, while Misty had returned home for the evening. Even Lance had disappeared following the match. To where, Leaf didn't know. But, it meant she was forced to endure Mr. Goodshow's company.

"Did you like him?" Mr. Goodshow persisted. "I liked him. He was very fair."

"He was," Leaf tacitly agreed as she headed into her office. She had no reason to be there, but she planned to make up some excuse about work, so Charles would leave. As it turned out, she didn't have to. Lance and Wallace were sitting inside.

"Uh, hi?" Leaf greeted, confused. She cast Mr. Goodshow a pointed look, and he finally got the hint.

"I'm sure we'll catch up later, Ms. Greene," he said, stepping back out into the hallway. Once he was gone, Leaf turned back toward the two other men.

"So, are we finally going to talk about Lance's serious drug addiction?" she asked.

"Very funny, Leaf," Lance said drolly.

"But really, what are you two here for?"

"Something that no longer involves me." Lance rose to his feet and brushed past her. "I'll see you tomorrow, Leaf."

Leaf's bottom lip twitched and she turned her head to watch him leave, suspicious. She then looked back at Wallace.

"So, what's your excuse?" she asked.

"There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about."

"Yeah, I figured as much," Leaf replied, claiming the seat Lance previously occupied. "I'm guessing this is the business you were talking about this morning?"

"Yes." Wallace nodded.

"Mhm," Leaf hummed. "What's up?"

Walllace was silent for a moment.

"Winona wants to begin having children soon," he started.

Leaf raised an eyebrow.

"Congratulations," she said. "You don't have to ask me for permission to go off birth control."

Wallace chuckled and said, "Well, you see, it's not that simple. Winona does not want me to be Champion for when we start a family."

Leaf's expression fell.

"Oh," she said more quietly. "I see. Then this is about looking for a replacement."

"Indeed," Wallace affirmed. "Drake is retiring for the Hoenn Elite Four soon, and I plan to replace him with the new Champion and keep him or her in the Elite Four for a year or two before I step down."

That wasn't as bad as Leaf thought. He would still be around for a while, long enough to oversee a more proper nomination for a new Champion, unlike what Alder had done for Iris.

"Who do you have in mind?" Leaf asked.

Wallace briefly paused.

"What do you..." he began carefully, "... think of Drew Hayden?"

If Leaf had been eating or drinking, she would have choked.

"_What?_" Her voice pitched a note higher. "Are you serious?"

"He has a bright mind and is a talented trainer," Wallace offered as a short explanation.

"He's also a coordinator," Leaf sputtered.

"So am I."

"You're different," Leaf dismissed. "You were a gym leader, too."

"Are you suggesting coordinators are somehow inferior to competitive trainers?"

"No, but..." Leaf shook her head. "Okay. I'll bite. Drew's qualified in the sense that he could hold himself in league matches. Just because he could be Champion doesn't mean he should, or even would, though. In fact, I'd venture a guess and say he's -20 percent interested in being Champion, and he'd give his weird little judgmental look if you approached him on it. He's working for Contesta right now to put contests in Unova, and when he succeeds, he's going to land a nice job at the APC, which is what he's always wanted. Pursuing him as a candidate would be a waste of your time."

"Are you sure?" Wallace politely contended. "He recently graduated with a degree in political science. That, to me, suggests some interest in our field."

"It doesn't," Leaf disagreed. "He went into political science for the same reason Zoey went into journalism."

"That is?"

"To make sense of what happened," she said, and a tense silence fell. Leaf cleared her throat after a bit, continuing, "Zoey and Drew don't take things at face value. They were some of the first to figure out there's some truth to what Silver said."

"What Silver said?"

"There's a reason Trip and Ritchie and Barry eventually stopped competing," Leaf replied. "Those four months pulled back the curtain on the G-Men, and Silver was a part of that."

"Ash Ketchum still competes," Wallace calmly pointed out.

"And thank Arceus he does," Leaf half-laughed. "They're all watching me, though. In fact, you and Lance and all the other former Champions are watching me, too. You, Drew, Zoey—all of you want to know what's going to happen when Ash and I face off for the Champion title." Leaf stopped, realizing she was getting off-topic. "Trust me, Wallace: Drew wouldn't touch the Championship seat with a 10-foot pole. He gets how the G-Men works, and he's not impressed."

"Then what do you think about May Maple?"

Leaf's mouth ran dry. That's when it clicked in her head.

"Wallace... you don't _have_ to pick one of us," she said. "You don't have to pick someone from our group."

"Lance would disagree, and so would I," Wallace replied. "The current Champion lineup is constructed so it can be united, which is what your predecessors and I evidently could never be."

"We don't _need_ to have May, though. It literally could be anyone else, as long as they're an agreeable person. Like, don't replace yourself with another Lance."

"I disagree again. Anyone else would be an outsider."

"What do you mean?"

"You, Iris, and Paul are friends," Wallace said bluntly. "The fifteen of you, in those four months together... you created a special bond, a connection. You're all still close after seven years. How could anyone else hope to fit in?"

Leaf was silent. She had nothing to say in response to that.

"Would May do it or not?" Wallace pressed the question when it became apparent she wasn't going to argue with him further.

Leaf opened her mouth and closed it again.

"Maybe," she finally said.

_**February 23rd, 2003. Early Evening. Goldenrod City.**_

"Wow, I can't believe it's been a _whole_ year since we came back," May commented, nibbling on her slice of pizza. She was just one of fourteen—_the_ fourteen—trainers sitting in a poorly-formed circle in a hotel room. Several now half-empty pizza boxes laid scatted among them.

"Well, not quite a year yet," Drew, who was sitting beside her, corrected. "The interview is being filmed in _advance_ of the anniversary. When it airs on March 6th, it'll have been a year."

"Yeah, I'm still not sure how I feel about being interviewed by Pokémon News National," Zoey said, reaching for another slice.

"You've been on TV before. You're a coordinator," Paul pointed out.

"It's different. Coordinating is a performance," Zoey said.

"And this isn't?" The trainers turned their heads to see Leaf had slipped into the room, carrying a stack of papers in her hands.

"Hey," Gary greeted, "where've you been?"

"Lance wanted to see me. He wanted me to give these—" Leaf pointed to the papers. "—to all of you." She then handed the stack to Gary, indicating he should pass them down the line.

"What are these?" Ash asked, blinking when he received his copy.

"It's a written account of our journey," Leaf explained. "We're to review them so we can keep our story straight."

"Our story straight?" Trip raised an eyebrow. "We know the story. We were all there."

"There are some revisions," Leaf hastily said.

"_Revisions_? You can't revise the story; it already happened," Trip objected.

"Well, what kind of revisions are they?" Misty asked, trying to be reasonable.

"It's changed so Silver and I are cut out of the account," Leaf answered.

"What?" Ash frowned. "But you guys are important. What happened wouldn't have even been possible without you and Silver."

"You guys _knew_ I wasn't going to be a part of the interview," Leaf reminded.

"True, but..." Cilan began tepidly as he flipped through the pages. "I mean... I'm just skimming, but it seems there's no mention of any G-Men agent at all in here. I would have thought your identity would be obscured, but that you wouldn't be shredded from the account entirely."

"Lance wants to protect me," Leaf said.

"How so?" Ritchie inquired.

"It's about my future," Leaf answered as though it were obvious. "Going against the orders of the Indigo Champion looks bad in the trial of public opinion."

"Yes, bad for Lance," Drew argued. "This isn't about protecting you. This is about preserving the reputation of the G-Men."

"No, it _is_ about protecting me. Preserving the G-Men's reputation does help me," Leaf snapped, though she didn't elaborate on why. "And others, too."

Iris winced, and Paul cast her a wary gaze.

"By others, you mean Silver, right?" Iris quickly interjected.

"Yes." Leaf went with it.

"Protect Silver?" Kenny sounded unsure. "Why should we protect him? After what happened with Ash, and him letting out those Team Rocket members..."

"Kenny," Dawn gently chastised.

"Hey, wait," Ash jumped in. "You don't understand-"

"-Because while you might think Silver stabbed us in the back, you have to remember there are still former Team Rocket members out there who feel the same way about themselves," Leaf began sharply, cutting Ash off. "The difference is they'll kill him for it. We—the G-Men—won't. Take note of _that_, Drew."

Drew looked annoyed, but Ash spoke again before he could.

"But Silver didn't betray us," he insisted. "He let out Jessie, James, and Meowth because they saved me."

"We've heard this before, Ash," Paul grumbled. "You can't deny it's suspicious, for Silver to disappear with them."

"We don't know if he went with him," Dawn pointed out.

"We don't know if he didn't," Paul retorted. "And we still never figured out where the Unova base is..."

"Plus, why would Silver go through the effort of releasing those three if his reasoning was because they saved Ash?" Cilan inquired. "Lance could have cleared them once the circumstances were clarified."

"Lance wouldn't have done that. Are you kidding me?" Gary rolled his eyes.

"Even so, Silver had no reason to leave. He had to have known Leaf would have been in his corner," Cilan persisted. "She didn't do anything that would suggest otherwise."

Leaf's chest tightened. Gary raised his eyebrows, watching her.

"Well, he's always been distrustful of the G-Men," Leaf dismissed.

"Maybe because the G-Men _is_ a little questionable," Zoey said, tapping the packet in her hand.

"Stop it," Barry growled. "Stop fighting, or I'm gonna fine you all."

Silence fell, and a few people shifted uncomfortably from where they sat. After a few moments, Zoey started again.

"I didn't come here to advance the interests of the G-Men," she said, tossing her packet toward the middle of the circle. "Isn't this interview supposed to be about giving the truth? Isn't that what journalism's about? I don't want to be a part of another conspiracy."

"You're not a part of another conspiracy," Gary said wryly. "You're just stuck in the same one, and you're gonna be stuck in it for a long time." His gaze passed over Leaf, Iris, and Paul. "So you might as well play the part. It'll help your friends in the long run."

"Yeah, I get it, Silver," Zoey mumbled.

Gary shook his head.

"I wasn't talking about Silver."

_**May 25th, 2009. Evening. Indigo Plateau.**_

"Could I have a sip of that?" Bonnie asked, pointing to Gary's drink. "It looks _really_ good."

Gary blinked, glancing at the half-empty glass of an alcoholic beverage he had ordered earlier.

"How old are you?" he asked.

"17."

"Eh." Gary shrugged, pushing it toward her. "Close enough."

Clemont intercepted the drink before Bonnie could reach for it, causing her to pout.

"Thanks," he said with a nervous laugh, "but Bonnie knows better than to drink underage, especially in a public restaurant."

"I don't know what the legal age in Kalos is, but it's 18 here," Gary said.

"I know." Clemont nodded. "It's the same in Kalos. I'd just hate for us to get thrown out and ruin Ash's celebratory dinner."

Ash looked up from his meal and offered a grin.

"Yeah..."

"Who are you facing tomorrow?" Serena asked, her finger twirling the straw in her drink.

"Karen," Ash answered. "She trains Dark-type Pokémon. And then it's Lorelei, who trains Ice-types."

"And finally Misty, right?" Bonnie asked, perking back up. "She's your friend, isn't she?"

"Oh yeah, Misty and I go _way_ back," Ash said.

"Why isn't she here then?" Bonnie continued. "I'd like to meet her! She must be a super strong trainer if she's an Elite Four member!"

"She is!" Ash insisted. "But... she and I haven't been able to hang out for a while, just so things stay fair when we battle. Last time we went out to dinner together was for when Gary passed his thesis, but I guess it would be weird now since we're celebrating my win over another Elite Four member..."

"That seems a little dramatic," Clemont said. "You not hanging out at all because of the matches, I mean. Even if you might face off..."

"Leaf is being very particular about making sure things are done right, so there are no questions asked if Ash wins the title," Gary explained. "Never been to Kalos, so I don't know how the league there works, but I'm guessing it's better since you guys, you know, have a president that's separate from the league."

"You don't?" Bonnie asked, surprised. "Who makes all the laws and stuff then?"

"The Champions, technically. They really don't, for various reasons." Gary shrugged.

"That's... odd..." Clemont frowned, adjusting his glasses.

"Backwards is more like it," Gary corrected.

"Isn't your girlfriend the Indigo Champion?" Serena asked.

"She is, and she's well-aware of how 'odd' it is," Gary replied.

"Oh!" Bonnie suddenly grew starry-eyed. "How long have you been together?"

"Seven years. She, Ash, and I have known each other since we were kids, but we didn't get together until after we came back from the dead." He stopped, looking at the Kalosian trio thoughtfully. "Sorry, did you guys hear about that?"

"Yeah, we heard," Serena let out a nervous laugh. She then quickly changed the subject. "Seven years straight?"

"Pretty much. We've had fights, and we've broken up several times, but never for very long," Gary said.

"That's so cute!" Bonnie gushed. "Are you going to get married?"

"Bonnie," Clemont chastised, embarrassed.

Gary laughed it off.

"Maybe," he said.

"Wait, really?" Ash sounded surprised.

"All I said was 'maybe.'"

"Well, you wouldn't be the first of us," Ritchie remarked. "We'll see if you beat May and Drew to the altar, though."

"Who are May and Drew?" Serena tentatively asked.

"Ah, they're a couple of friends from Hoenn," Ash explained.

"They were also a part of our mass funeral," Gary added.

"Oh. I see." Serena forced a quick smile. Yet, as the conversation carried on, she slowly began to sink into her chair.

.

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	7. VI: In Which Georgia Makes a Break

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Chapter VI: In Which Georgia Makes a Break

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_**May 28th, 2009. Late Morning. Indigo Plateau.**_

"Will you hold onto Pikachu for me?"

Serena stared at Ash in surprise as he held his long-time partner out to her in earnest. Her companions, Clemont and Bonnie, as well as Ash's other close friends seemed equally confused.

"You're... not going to use him in battle?" Serena asked.

"Not this time." Ash shook his head.

"But Electric-types are super-effective against Water-types, aren't they?" Bonnie pressed.

"I know. But Misty and Pikachu are really good friends, so he doesn't like to battle her, and I totally respect that," Ash explained. Pikachu let out a short, abashed laugh, rubbing the back of his head. Ash smiled, adding, "I know he'll be cheering for me in the audience, though, right?"

"Pika." Pikachu looked back at his trainer and gave a definitive nod.

"Okay... Well, sure, I can hold onto Pikachu!" Serena said, and Pikachu happily leapt into her arms. Ash glanced behind him; he needed to go backstage soon. He felt his stomach begin to knot.

Sensing his uneasiness, Ritchie kindly said, "Good luck, Ash. You're gonna do really great. I promise."

"It'll be an interesting battle, for sure," Brock added. "I've known you two for a long time. It's a little surreal that it's come to this."

"Thanks guys." Ash grinned crookedly. "I'll do my best."

* * *

"Well, gee Misty, don't look so nervous."

Misty blinked and turned to see that Leaf had appeared in her doorway to her waiting room. The redhead's lips curved into a frown as she protested, "I'm not nervous."

Leaf craned an eyebrow and, with a wry smile, asked, "Then what are you feeling? You don't exactly look thrilled to be here," as she trotted down the steps toward Misty.

"Somewhere between excited and wanting to punch someone," Misty answered. "Me, specifically."

"Why's that?"

"Well..." Misty drawled. "I'm excited because I like battling, and I know this is going to be a really good match. Ash and I know each other's styles really well, which is probably why he saved me for last. But, I'm also mad at myself for getting me into this situation."

"What do you mean?" Leaf furrowed her brow.

Misty paused, thinking.

"When I spoke to Ash before his match-" she began, but Leaf cut her off.

"-You mean when you broke the impartiality clause?"

"Yes, that," Misty grumbled, annoyed. She continued, "When I spoke to Ash before his match, he was clearly very excited about the idea of winning the conference, because it meant he would get the chance to battle me. I wasn't... quite as excited. I don't like the idea that I can make or break his dream, especially when I was the one who told him not to quit competing, even when the others started drifting away from competitive training. You know, when they realized..."

"So, what I'm getting from this is, if he takes away my title, I can blame you?" When Misty glowered at her, Leaf added, "I'm kidding. I expect any good girlfriend would encourage the person they love to follow their dreams."

Misty scoffed, saying, "I'm not his girlfriend."

"Friend with kissing benefits, whatever." Leaf shrugged. "I really wouldn't worry about it. Truly, I'm the one who gets to make or break his dream, when he and I face off."

"I'm so glad you're confident I'm going to lose," Misty said dryly.

"_You_ don't want to win."

"I do," Misty insisted.

"Prove me wrong then."

Misty glared.

"You're just trying to provoke me, so I'll do my best," she said.

"Is it working?"

"A little bit," Misty begrudgingly admitted.

"Good." Leaf smirked. "You should go."

Misty blinked.

"Is it time already?" she asked.

"It is."

"Oh..." _Now_ Misty began to feel anxiety pool within her. "Okay."

She turned to leave through the door that would lead toward the battlefield. Yet, at the last moment, Leaf called out to her.

"At least make him work for it," she said.

Misty stopped at the door.

"I will," she said before pushing it open.

The audience's screams reached Misty's ears as soon as she stepped out into the tunnel. She pressed forward, however, into the increasingly intense reverberations, until she reached the opening into the stadium. She stopped at the divide between shadow and sunlight, waiting for the announcer to call her name.

Across the way, she noticed Ash was also waiting, and she caught his eye. He tipped his cap toward her, and suddenly, Misty felt all her doubts dissipate. She couldn't help but smile and laugh.

_**March 5th, 2003. Early Evening. Pallet Town.**_

The sun was just starting to set when Misty's car rumbled up the dirt road in Pallet Town. She pulled up near the white fencing of Ash's home, put the car into park, and turned off the engine. She noticed Delia Ketchum peek through her velvety light green curtains before coming outside. Misty trotted up the stone pathway to meet her.

"Good evening, Misty," Delia warmly greeted. "It's always nice to see you again."

"Same here, Ms. Ketchum. Thanks for having me over," Misty politely replied.

"I didn't know you had your license." Delia gestured toward the car.

Misty nodded, adding, "My sisters got the car for me, saying it was a birthday present. I'm not sure if it's supposed to be a very late birthday present, or an early one, since I was born in June."

"Still, that's nice of them."

"It makes visiting Pallet a lot easier, that's for sure," Misty agreed.

Delia smiled.

"Come in, come in," she said, ushering Misty inside. "Dinner will be ready in ten or so minutes. Ash is upstairs in his room, I think, if you want to see him."

"Thanks," Misty said before heading up the stairs. The door to Ash's room was cracked open, and she peered inside. Ash was laying on his backside on top of his bed, idly playing with Pikachu, who was sitting on his belly. Misty pushed the door open more fully and walked inside. Ash craned his neck, having heard the door creak.

"Oh, hey." Ash sat up when he saw Misty. "Glad you could make it."

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Me? Nothing, really," he replied, shrugging.

"That's kind of weird for you." Misty climbed up the ladder onto his bed and sat across from him. Pikachu wriggled out of his trainer's grasp to see her, and Misty happily welcomed him onto her lap.

"You think?"

"You're the type of person who never stops moving." Misty paused. "Come to think of it, you haven't really traveled since the Unova League, have you?"

"Huh... I guess not..." Ash trailed off, thinking. Misty kept quiet, watching him expectantly, knowing he had more to say. Finally, he said, "That interview's supposed to be on TV tomorrow."

Misty raised an eyebrow.

"I know," she said.

"Are you gonna watch it?" he asked.

"Probably not." Misty shook her head.

Ash appeared relieved.

"Me neither."

Misty tilted her head, frowning.

"Are still bothered by the thing with Silver?" she asked.

"Kind of," Ash admitted. "I get what Leaf was saying, though. I don't know. I feel weird about the whole thing. I felt weird just being interviewed about it."

"I think we all feel that way," Misty reassured him. "It did kind of seem like we were being... used by the G-Men, I guess, so they could look better. It's strange, though, because I _like_ Lance and Cynthia and Wallace, and I just... It's very confusing."

"Yeah," Ash agreed. "It makes me think about Silver, actually. He used to talk about the G-Men all the time, and I didn't get what he was saying then. I still don't, but I'm wondering if this is what he meant."

Misty's lips tightened.

"Maybe," she said. After a brief moment, she asked, "Have you dreamt about him recently?"

"Not really," he answered. "I guess I'm just kind of in a funk."

"Is... that why you're not traveling?" Misty appeared suspicious. "Because of all this?"

Ash winced.

"Well, I've gotta admit, I'm a bit discouraged," he said.

"What do you mean? Because you miss Silver or... ?"

"Silver said Champions are chosen."

Misty felt her heart sink and her mouth run dry. She hadn't expected they would broach this topic yet, and she was unprepared in how she would address it.

"Ash... you aren't thinking of not competing anymore, are you?" she tentatively asked.

He hesitated.

"I don't _want_ to stop," he said.

"Then don't," Misty insisted. "You love competing. Your Pokémon love competing. I bet the reason behind your 'funk' is because you haven't been trying to earn gym badges or anything..."

"I guess..."

"You know, Trip and Ritchie are still competing. They're planning to travel through Kanto when the new season starts, and I bet you could travel with them if you asked," Misty continued.

"Nah. If I'm gonna compete, I don't want to do it in Kanto. At least, not right now," Ash replied. "Maybe in several years, after..."

"After... ?" Misty prompted.

"After this blows over," Ash finished. "If it blows over. That interview isn't gonna help..."

"I think you just need to get away—and I don't mean by dropping out of the competitive scene for a while," Misty said. "You need to compete. You need something to do. Maybe you just need to do it outside of Napaj. You probably won't get recognized as much outside the country..."

"Outside of Napaj?"

"Go to Orre, maybe," Misty suggested. "Or Kalos, or anywhere that has an established competitive battling league."

"That would be cool," Ash admitted. "I was actually kind of thinking about challenging Sinnoh's Battle Frontier, but... it would be cool to travel someplace where not everyone's gonna know who I am. I mean, it's not like the Sinnoh Battle Frontier will go anywhere, right?"

"Yeah." Misty felt a lump form in her throat. Although she stood by her suggestions, Ash traveling internationally would mean he would be very, very far away from home. "The important things is that you can't give up. If you, of all people, give up on your dreams, what does that mean for the rest of us?"

Ash chuckled.

"You're right," he said. "I just gotta keep at it, no matter what, so I can become Pokémon Master—and I won't be chosen for it. I'm tired of being chosen."

They heard Delia call from downstairs; dinner was ready. Ash grinned and waited as Misty climbed down the ladder before he jumped down himself. Pikachu jumped out of her arms and bounded down the stairs, leaving the two trainers alone. Just as Misty was about to follow, Ash grasped her wrist.

"Hey, Mist'?"

"Mm?" She looked back at him.

He leaned in to kiss her. It was unexpectedly slow, and sweet, for Ash—not that Misty minded. Ash tended to be quick and snappy, due in part to his own nervousness, whenever he kissed her, which wasn't often. So, the change was a welcome one.

"Thanks," he said when he pulled away.

_**May 28th, 2009. Late Morning. Indigo Plateau.**_

"Sceptile, unleash your Solar Beam, now!"

"Golduck, quick, use Ice Beam!"

The two forces of energy collided in the middle of the field. Misty pulled the collar of her shirt over her face to protect herself from the shards of ice crystals that blew back in her direction, while Ash ducked his eyes beneath his arm to hide from the blinding light of his Sceptile's attack. When the field cleared, both Pokémon were still standing, relatively unaffected by the blast.

"Golduck, Surf!" Misty quickly ordered, trying to gain the upper hand.

"Counter that with Leaf Storm, Sceptile!"

Yet, Sceptile's storm of green-glowing leaves were swallowed by the wave Golduck drummed up, and the wall of water descended upon Sceptile at full-force, bringing him to a knee. Golduck planted his feet firmly on the ground again, in front of Sceptile.

"_Ooh, Sceptile's Leaf Storm failed to cut through Surf, and it took a direct hit! This could be bad for Ketchum._" The announcer's voice boomed in the stadium.

Sceptile looked up to see Golduck standing above him, backlit against the near-noonday sun.

"Okay, Golduck, use Ice Beam again while you're close!" Misty called from the other end of the field.

"Sceptile, use Leaf Blade and aim low!"

Just as Golduck began gathering the power for a second Ice Beam, Sceptile's blades on the back of his forearms glowed bright green, and he slashed at Golduck's knees. Golduck was swept of his feet and fell face-forward, choking on his own Ice Beam.

"Now, jump up and use Bullet Seed!"

Sceptile did so, and Golduck was hit with a barrage of the projectiles, and he was consumed in a cloud of dust and smoke.

"Golduck!" Misty cried out in concern. Yet, when the cloud dissipated, it was clear Golduck had been knocked out.

"Golduck is unable to battle, so the winner is Sceptile, and the victory goes to Ash!" Olivier declared.

The crowd exploded. Misty breathed in sharply. It was over. She had lost. Ash was going to battle Leaf. Ash appeared as though he were in shock as well, until Sceptile practically tackled him in joy.

"Return, Golduck." Misty recalled her long-time Pokémon and drew its Pokéball close to her lips so she could say, "Thank you. You were wonderful."

She looked up again with a tired smile, placing her hands on her hips as she watched Ash and Sceptile celebrate their win. She moved toward the center of the field, and when Ash noticed she was coming, he met her halfway.

"Congratulations, Ash," she said, shaking his hand, as per tradition.

"Thanks." Ash grinned.

Misty smiled, too, and she leaned a little closer to Ash to talk more intimately.

"Meet me backstage in your waiting room, all right?" she said in a low voice. "Before you talk to the press."

Ash appeared confused, but he nodded.

"Okay."

* * *

"Well, that's that." Leaf wore a strangely proud smirk as she observed the happy chaos below her from the Champion box. She turned to the three seated Elite Four members behind her. "Thank you for all your hard work during these matchups. Now it's my turn."

She then headed straight for the door, presumably leaving to go see either Ash or Misty. Gary rose to follow her, but he noticed that Lance was still standing in front of the glass pane overlooking the battlefield, his arms at rest behind him. His expression was contemplative, though he wore a frown.

"You seem unhappy," Gary remarked.

Lance darted his gaze toward the young researcher.

"I invested eight years into preparing Leaf for the Championship seat," he said firmly, though calmly. "Do you think I want to see her lose her title after only two?"

* * *

Ash's head snapped up when the door to his waiting room abruptly opened, and there Misty stood, her breathing a little more labored than usual. She had jogged to meet him there, knowing there were people waiting to see and talk to him, and she didn't want people to question why he had taken so long.

"Hey," Ash said, rising to his feet.

"Hi," Misty replied.

They stood in silence for a moment. Then, Misty quickly advanced toward him and, grabbing the collar of his shirt, pulled him into an unexpected kiss. Ash initially grew tense, unsure of what to do or how to react. It had been a while since he'd done this, and he couldn't remember where to put his hands. Misty drew back before he had the chance to figure it out, however.

"Sorry," she apologized. "I've, ah, missed that, and I couldn't do it in front of the cameras."

"Uh... yeah!" Ash laughed nervously, still flustered. "I get that."

Both perked up when they heard footsteps nearby. Misty realized she and Ash were still standing close together, and she took a step back so they were at a more respectable distance. Pikachu suddenly bounded into the room and leapt into his trainer's arms.

"Hey!" Ash grinned, hugging his partner close to him. "Did'ja watch? How'd you like it?"

"Pika!" Pikachu affectionately licked Ash's face.

Bonnie soon hurried into the room, too, and she also tackled Ash with a hug.

"Ash, you were awesome!" the teen gushed. Ash smiled and freed one of his arms, laying a hand on her mid-back to return her embrace.

"It really was a great battle!" Clemont soon followed his younger sister.

"No joke." Gary was next. "I thought Misty had you with Surf, but Sceptile held out. Nice work."

"Props to Misty, too," Brock said, giving her a pat on the shoulder as he approached.

"Yeah, you didn't go down easy, that's for sure," Ritchie added. Serena was the last to come in the room, but she remained quiet, only offering Ash a smile.

"Thanks you guys," Misty said.

"Yeah, thanks!" Ash agreed. "How'd you all get down here anyway?"

"I let them in." Leaf suddenly appeared, pressing her way into the circle that had formed. She stopped and, smirking, gave Misty and Ash a once-over. "You know, I had a sneaking suspicion we'd find you two together."

"We were just talking," Misty said.

"Uh-huh." Leaf didn't believe them, but she didn't push the matter. She then turned to Ash, and he straightened up. "Well Ash, congratulations. You defeated the Elite Four, and now you have a shot at winning the Champion title."

"I can't wait to battle you." Ash looked determined.

"And I can't wait to crush you." Leaf smiled wryly. "But until then, you've got a press waiting for you."

"Oh, right! Um..." Ash appeared unsure, casting a quick glance toward Misty and then toward his friends. He wasn't sure he wanted to leave yet.

"Don't worry," Serena assured him. "We can meet at the Pokémon Center where we're staying once you're finished."

"And then we can go to Pallet Town," Gary added. "I'm sure my grandfather and your mother will want to celebrate tonight."

"Okay... er..." He looked at Misty pointedly. She winced and cast Leaf a quick, hopeful glance. The Indigo Champion sighed in response, rolling her eyes.

"Misty, you're excused," she said drolly. "The impartiality clause no longer applies to you. You may go celebrate with Ash and company in Pallet Town tonight, should they choose to invite you."

"Of course she's invited!" Ash happily threw an arm around her shoulder, and Misty let out a nervous chuckle in response. "You're all invited!"

Serena's lips tightened, but she said nothing.

"Ash," Gary began.

"Yeah?"

"The press," Gary reminded.

"Ah, sorry!" Ash withdrew his arm from Misty and readjusted his cap before heading for the door, Pikachu in tow. "Okay, I'll catch you later!"

_**May 28th, 2009. Morning. Opelucid City.**_

"Did I just hear the elevator ding?" Iris questioned, looking up. Her Haxorous, who was kneeled in front of her and resting his head on her lap, pouted that his trainer had stopped petting him. Paul and Trip ceased their idle activities as well and exchanged quick glances.

"I'll go check," Trip grumbled when he realized Paul wasn't moving. He stood up and headed toward the door and down the hallway. Instead of meeting a male allegedly representing the organization SAMPLe, however, he found Georgia.

"Oh, it's you," he said when he confronted her midway.

"Were you expecting someone else?" Georgia raised an eyebrow.

"Actually, yes," Trip replied. "Iris is supposed to meet with someone named Elijah soon, and Paul and I are here to make nothing bad happens."

"Thrilling," Georgia said, uninterested. She then pushed past him, heading toward Iris's office. Trip shook his head and followed her.

"Hi Georgia," Iris greeted, confused when her old rival suddenly appeared in the doorway. Georgia hadn't said anything about visiting that morning.

"Mr. Goodshow emailed me a bunch of documents new Elite Four members need to fill out and wants me to fax them to him when I'm finished," Georgia explained in short.

"Okay." Iris turned her head slightly, still lost.

"I don't own a printer or a fax machine."

"Oh! Well, that's fine. You can use ours." Iris gestured toward the computer behind her desk, which was indeed hooked up to a printer and fax machine. "I have a couple of meetings this morning, but you can do whatever you need to do."

Georgia nodded, uttering a quick, dry thanks before sitting at the computer and plugging in a flashdrive. Iris stood, too, and headed for her desk, leaving behind her now more disappointed Haxorous. He whined as she picked up the glass of Leppa Juice she had prepared for herself and took a drink.

"Oh stop it," Iris chastised, glowering at him. She sat down again and let him rest his head on her lap once more. "You're such a big baby."

"That's what you get for letting him live in your hair while he was an Axew," Paul groused. "You spoiled him with attention."

"You raise your Pokémon the way you want, I'll raise mine the way I want," Iris tacitly replied. "I'm actually quite confident my Haxorous could take out your Torterra any day of the year."

"I doubt that."

"It certainly would be a phenomenal match." The four trainers' eyes darted toward the door to see a tall, slender male standing in the entrance. "It's not often that we have the pleasure of seeing Champions battle one another."

"You... must be Elijah!" Iris jumped up and went to shake his hand.

"Ms. Ajagara, it's such an honor to finally meet you," he said. Paul slowly rose to his feet, watching Elijah carefully. Georgia also eyed him over her shoulder as she printed her materials.

Elijah noticed Paul's gaze and turned to address him, too.

"I did not realize the Sinnoh Champion would be joining us today, too," he said thoughtfully.

"Oh no, he isn't," Iris corrected with a nervous laugh. "He and my friend Trip were just keeping me company until you arrived."

Elijah immediately saw through her ruse, but he smiled anyway.

"I see," he said. "There's no need to worry, Mr. Rebolledo. Your agent already so graciously patted me down for firearms and other weapons, and he found no such thing. I understand the need to be cautious, but I assure I intend no harm to befall Ms. Ajagara. In fact, I hope today's meeting will give rise to a mutually beneficial relationship between SAMPLe and the league."

"Mhm," Paul hummed, still wary.

"_See?_" Iris emphasized. "Everything's fine. You can go now."

Paul cleared his throat.

"We'll be outside," he said, heading for the door. Trip followed him. Iris looked at Georgia and made a quick gesture with her head, indicating she should go, too. Georgia gathered her printed documents, snatched a pen off Iris's desk, and left without complaint. She shut the door behind her.

Iris turned and recalled Haxorous into his Pokéball before facing Elijah again.

"I'm really sorry," she quickly apologized. "My husband is a little paranoid. He would have asked for people to be with me if I were meeting with anyone he didn't know. I don't want you to take this as an affront to you or, um, SAMPLe."

"It's quite all right, Ms. Ajagara," Elijah said kindly. "Like I said, I understand completely. It is good of your husband to be concerned for you. It means he cares about you. The assassination attempt must have been scary for him, too."

Iris's lip twitched.

"Yeah..." she admitted, agreeing. "Anyway, I have no idea why you wanted to meet today, but I completely support anything that wants to help Pokémon, and it sounds like SAMPLe does that, so..."

"I'm glad to hear it. May I sit?"

"Of course! Sorry."

Elijah pulled up one of the chairs and did so.

"SAMPLe does indeed strive to help Pokémon," he said. "We rescue injured, abandoned, or even abused Pokémon from both trainers and the wild, and we help rehabilitate and release them back into the wild. Our research team studies the best way we can rehabilitate Pokémon, and I am a part of that. I, specifically, study how to bring out the inner power of Pokémon. I believe this helps them in their return to the wild; their greater strength allows them to better defend themselves."

"That's really great," Iris said, genuine. "What can I do to help you?"

"Well, you see..." Elijah began slowly. "Performing research requires money. And as a start-up, SAMPLe unfortunately doesn't have a lot of it. We do what we can, but researchers like myself are often forced to apply for grants or seek donors."

"Oh... I see..." Iris trailed off.

"I think this could be a grand opportunity for you as well, Ms. Ajagara," Elijah continued. "I don't mean to sound crass, but with the happenings at your inauguration, it's clear there are anti-league groups who see you as an enemy. Supporting an organization like SAMPLe may help your reputation in that respect."

"That's true, but..." Iris sighed. "I'm really sorry. As much as I would really love to financially help SAMPLe, I can't right now. I'm already dipping into the Unova League's reserves to build a new G-Men here, and I've also kind of committed to helping another organization. But, it's run by a team of really smart people, and I know they'll have it running independently in no time. Then, the Unova League will happen in September, and after that, I'll have the means to be able to help you."

Elijah frowned.

"If you don't mind me asking, what other organization is this?"

"Oh! Well..." She hesitated. "This isn't public information yet, but the APC is planning on establishing another branch for contests in Unova. They need help building contest halls and other things, and while I don't know the specifics yet, I know the price tag is pretty hefty. I'm actually meeting with the people in charge to learn about all that a little later."

Elijah was silent for a moment.

"Ms. Ajagara, have you watched the news lately?" he asked calmly.

"A little. Why?"

"I suggest you keep a watchful eye," he said, standing again. "You may find you'll change your mind and want to support us."

Iris appeared unnerved, but she shook it off, asking, "Is there nothing else I can do aside from giving financial help?"

"I'm afraid not." Elijah smiled sadly.

"I'm sorry."

"It's no matter," Elijah dismissed. "I have another promising potential donor in Hoenn. That's where I'm flying to this afternoon."

"Good luck," Iris wished him well.

"Thank you. And thank you for your time. I'm sorry this meeting had to end early." He reached into the pocket on the front of his shirt and pulled out a business card. "If you do change your mind... please contact me."

Iris stood, too, to accept his card. Yet, her head whirled as she did, and she grasped the arm of her chair to steady herself. She realized she must have gotten up too fast.

"I will," Iris said, taking the card. "I'm sorry again."

* * *

"Are Elite Four members required to specialize in one type?" Georgia asked, tapping her pen against her lower jaw. She was leaning against the wall directly outside of Iris's office, filling out her paperwork.

Paul slowly brought his gaze up to her.

"It's typical they do," he said. "Not always. Leaf specialized in 'female Pokémon.'"

"Not that it should be a problem for you?" Trip craned an eyebrow. "Don't you run an Ice-type gym?"

"Yes, but I don't consider it my specialty, per se," Georgia corrected. "I have Steel- and Fairy-type Pokémon, too. Dragon-busting, now that's my specialty."

"Are you still stuck on that?" Trip glowered at her. "I would've thought you'd have given up that ridiculous title when you became the Icirrus City Gym Leader."

"Excuse me, but what's a Dragon Buster?" Paul asked, annoyed.

"A Trainer Class she made up," Trip replied.

"Exactly what you would think it is," Georgia spoke over Trip, ignoring his answer. "They focus on building teams that take down Dragons."

"That seems stupid." Paul waved waved his hand. "But, whatever. Iris's call, not mine. Talk to her about it, not me."

"Oh, I will." Georgia smirked.

She flipped the page, continuing on with the packet of information. Paul resumed reading his book, and Trip returned to scrolling through his newsfeed on his PokéPad.

"... Did you guys hear about that Minccino in Nimbasa last week?" Trip asked after a short silence.

"The one that ate its trainers nose?" Georgia didn't look up.

"That's the one," Trip confirmed. "There's been a third attack, this time from a Houndoom."

"I didn't even know there was a second," Paul admitted.

"Yeah. A Sandile. It happened Tuesday, but it was brushed over because of all the coverage for the Kanto E4 matches," Trip explained. "The Houndoom is supposed to be sent to a rehabilitation facility, much like the Sandile and that Minccino."

Georgia scoffed.

"Must be something in the water in Nimbasa City," she said.

Trip looked at her pointedly, catching her gaze.

"They weren't all in Nimbasa City," he said.

Before either she or Paul had a chance to respond, they heard the elevator door open down the hallway, and a small chorus of voices emerged with it.

"Looks like the CIU is here," Paul remarked.

"The what?" Georgia asked.

"Contests in Unova," Trip explained in short. The familiar group of five coordinators plus Barry soon appeared, and May's face lit up when she saw Trip.

"Hi, Trip!" she said, beaming as she headed toward him to give him a quick embrace. "I didn't know we were going to see you today!"

Trip let out a short, exasperated laugh, but offered her a reciprocal pat on the back.

"It hasn't been that long since we last talked," he said.

"I know, but..." May smiled as she stepped back. "It's always nice to see you again."

The door to Iris's office suddenly opened, and Elijah walked out with Iris behind him. She seemed a little paler than usual, and she was wearing a crooked smile.

"I hope we may meet again, Ms. Ajagara," he said.

"So do I," she replied. "Best wishes on your flight."

"Thank you."

Elijah turned to leave, and the group of CIU staffers parted so he could pass through.

"Who's that?" Barry asked, looking back at Iris once he was out of earshot.

"His name's Elijah. He's a representative of- ooh!" Iris had the breath knocked out of her when May left Trip to hug her instead. Iris stumbled slightly; under normal circumstances, she would have been fine, but May's embrace only served to bring on another spell of dizziness. "I've missed you too, May."

"Do you not pay enough attention to your girlfriend or something, Hayden?" Paul grumbled.

"May's always been a very touchy person," Drew dismissed. "Besides, who are you to talk about not paying enough attention to your girlfriend?"

Drew said it in a more joking manner, but Paul shot him an intense glare and then sent Dawn a wary look. She winced in response.

"_Drew,_" Dawn hissed.

Sensing the sudden tension, Iris cleared her throat and stepped away from May, wobbling only slightly as she did.

"Anyway, come in!" she said, forcing a smile. "I'm excited to finally talk to you guys!"

She quickly ushered the coordinators inside and shut the door again. Dawn sheepishly sat down on the sofa, keeping her eyes on the ground. Zoey and Kenny looked at her and then at each other. Drew shook his head and sighed. He'd crossed the line; apparently, the issues Dawn had brought up with him last week were very real, and his offhand comment had hit a sore spot in her and Paul's relationship.

Iris immediately headed for her desk, getting another drink of her Leppa Juice.

"We're sorry we're here so early," Drew apologized. "We intended to wait for you. We didn't know you had another meeting before us."

"Oh, don't worry about it!" Iris said with a dismissive wave of her hand. She came to sit with the group. "It saves time, overall, I think. How are you guys?"

"We're great. Been hard at work," Kenny chuckled.

"I can imagine. I can't believe you're already going to launch tomorrow. You guys are really fast," Iris complimented.

"Thanks," Drew said. "We had to get moving pretty quickly, though. The only time Don George could give us the Opelucid Battle Club in June was on the 18th."

"What're you doing on the 18th?" Iris asked.

"A Q&amp;A with Top Coordinators," Dawn answered, shaking off her embarrassment.

"That sounds good. Anything else planned?"

"We want to do a contest in the stadium the Battle Club owns in Nimbasa Town," Drew replied. "That'll be in July."

"You guys really have it together, don't you?"

"We're certainly trying to fool people into thinking that, so I'm glad we've at least succeeded with you," Zoey laughed.

"It's a start, right?" Iris smiled. "So, what can I do to help?"

"Just having you say you support us would help us bunches!" May said. "It would get people to hopefully volunteer or donate."

"And," Drew added, "we're going to need some financial help, too. Contesta wants twelve different locations for contests in Unova to start. The Don George Battle Club thinks they can offer six different venues."

"So you're going to need to build six more..." Iris trailed off. "Okay! Well, it took some stumbling around and calling different people, but I found out how much the Unova League has in its reserves—and it's pretty decent. Alder never really used any of it."

She stood, and her feet seemed to tangle on their own. The dizziness had returned.

"Hey... are you okay?" Dawn asked carefully.

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine," Iris insisted. "I'm just tired. I've been awake since early this morning, so I could watch Ash's match live. The time difference between here and Kanto can be a real pain sometimes." She rounded her desk and opened up a drawer. She felt as though she couldn't focus. "Hang on, I've got... I've got the printed record here somewhere."

She closed the desk, unable to recall where she had placed it. She took yet another drink of her Leppa Juice and placed her hands on her desk, trying to get ahold of herself.

"Oh, you know what?" Iris quickly pushed herself away from her desk, straightening up; a mistake. "I think I left it..."

The quick motion caused everything to turn blurry, and then black as her knees buckled and she collapsed.

"Oh Arceus." Drew and the others sprung from their seats and hurried to her aid. Drew knelt at her side, touching her cheek. "Iris? Iris, are you all right?" When she didn't respond, his hand moved to her neck.

Having heard the commotion, the door to Iris's office was thrown open, and in came Paul, Trip, and Georgia. Paul's eyes widened when he saw Iris crumpled on the floor, surrounded by the others.

"What happened?" he demanded, pushing his way into their circle.

"She just fainted!" Barry exclaimed.

Paul breathed out, his eyes darting around the room. His gaze landed on the glass of Leppa Juice, and he snatched it up.

"Was she drinking this?" he asked Dawn, pointing toward the glass.

"I-"

"-Was she?" Paul pressed.

"Yes, she had a little bit," Dawn finally answered.

He immediately feared the worst. Iris stirred as she began to come around, and her eyes opened again, her gaze distant and dreamy.

"Iris, did Elijah slip something into your drink?" he asked as he, too, kneeled beside her. A few sharp breaths were drawn at the terrible implications of that question.

"Ah..." She blinked rapidly, but couldn't formulate a response.

Paul frowned.

"May, go call for an ambulance," he said very seriously, and she nodded before scrambling to get her cell phone. "And someone needs to get in contact with Cilan."

"Isn't he in class right now?" Kenny asked.

"Then someone needs to go _get_ him," Paul growled.

"I have a car. I can drive down there," Georgia quickly offered. "I don't know where his classroom is, though."

"I think I do," Trip jumped in. "Take me with you."

"Fine. Come on." She hurried out with Trip in tow.

May returned to the group, holding her cell phone near her ear.

"They're on their way," she said.

* * *

Burgundy perked up in alarm when she heard a couple knocks at the classroom door. She turned around to see Georgia in the square window embedded in the door, gesturing for her to come outside. Confusion crossed Burgundy's face, and she did a double-take between her friend and Cilan. As quietly as she could manage, she slipped outside to talk to her. She was surprised to see Trip was in the hallway, too, which only served to intensify her confusion.

"What are you two doing here?" she demanded in a hushed tone.

"You need to take over the class or something. Cilan has to come with us," Georgia said urgently, ignoring her inquiry.

"Why?"

"Iris is on her way to the hospital," Trip continued. "She passed out. We're not sure why, but she was drinking something, and Paul's worried that..."

He did not need to say anything further. The news coverage for the assassination attempt on Iris only several weeks earlier whirled in Burgundy's head, and she felt a chill sink into her chest—something she would not have expected. She let out a shaky breath before glancing through the square window into the classroom. Cilan was still teaching, unaware Burgundy had stepped out.

"Wait here," Burgundy told the two before stiffly re-entering the room.

* * *

Iris inhaled sharply when the nurse stuck a needle into her arm to draw blood. She was sitting upright in her hospital bed, now fully conscious and hooked up to an IV. A half-empty water bottle was at her beside, and the nurse and doctor would consistently remind her to keep drinking.

"Well, I can say with near-full confidence that she wasn't poisoned," Dr. Dansforth told Paul and Drew, though his eyes were locked on Iris as her gaze passed around the room, looking at anything except the needle in her arm. "No vomiting, no fever, no abnormal salivation... This is something else. You're sure her fainting wasn't caused by dehydration?"

"Yes. She was drinking her juice all morning," Paul asserted.

"And... you thought it had been poisoned?" Dansforth asked slowly.

"I was obviously mistaken," Paul begrudgingly admitted. "It seemed like a possibility at the time."

Dr. Dansforth raised an eyebrow, but he didn't push the matter further.

"Well, we'll have her blood tested to see what we can find," he said. "But, for now, she seems fine. So, you'll just have to wait until the results come back."

"How long will that take?" Drew asked.

"Several hours," Dansforth answered.

"Fantastic," Paul mumbled.

Dr. Dansforth turned to Iris once more and said, "Ms. Ajagara, please make sure you keep drinking your water."

"Yeah, yeah, I am," Iris grumbled as she reached for her water bottle again, unscrewing the cap. After Dansforth left, Drew and Paul returned to her bedside.

"How are you feeling?" Drew asked gently.

"Stupid," Iris huffed. "Why am I here? I hate hospitals."

"You fainted," Paul reminded her.

"And I'm obviously fine now."

The door to her room suddenly opened, and a somewhat disheveled Cilan appeared. His alarmed expression melted into relief when he saw Iris was awake. He dropped his bag at the door and slid onto her bed, cupping her face to kiss her rather deeply. This caught Iris off-guard; she and Cilan tended to be more private when it came to their romance.

Trip and Georgia came into the room after Cilan, happening upon the intimate scene.

"Arceus, Iris, I was so scared when I heard..." Cilan began when he pulled away, tenderly brushing a strand of hair out of her face.

"Heard what?" Iris appeared confused. His reaction seemed dramatic.

"Georgia and Trip said they were worried you'd been poisoned," Cilan replied.

"_Poisoned?_" Iris laughed, finding it ludicrous.

"She wasn't poisoned," Paul stepped in to clarify.

"Yeah, what is this?" Iris pressed. Georgia and Trip exchanged quick glances. She obviously had been too dazed to remember the moments immediately following when she first came around, when the poison panic set in among her friends.

"I thought Elijah had put something into your drink, which caused you to pass out," Paul grumbled.

"Wha- why would you think that?" Iris looked upset, perhaps even angry now. "Elijah didn't even get _close_ to my drink."

"We weren't in the meeting, Iris," Trip interjected defensively. "We didn't know what happened."

"All he wanted was some financial backing for SAMPLe's research," Iris retorted. "Sure, he was disappointed when I turned him down, but..."

"You turned him down?" Trip raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I told him I was already committed to helping the CIU," she continued. Drew straightened up in surprise, but said nothing. Cilan frowned, his hand falling into the small of Iris's back.

"If she wasn't poisoned, then what _is_ wrong?" he asked.

"They don't know yet," Paul answered. "She just had some blood drawn a couple minutes ago, and I guess they're going to run some tests."

Cilan let out a long, cleansing breath before looking back at his wife.

"Well," he began slowly, "at least you're fine now." He pulled her into an embrace. "I really was scared. I thought I might lose you."

Iris blinked and hesitantly brought up an arm, grasping the back of his shirt.

"You have no reason to be scared," she assured him. "I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

Pokémon News National was still reporting on Ash Ketchum's win over Misty Waterflower in the Kanto region when Kenny turned on the television in the waiting room—one he and the others, funnily enough, had used before. They were waiting to see whether the outlet would pick up on Iris's trip to the hospital, and hoping it wouldn't. Yet, it wasn't long before May noticed Drew coming down the hallway from the window, and she jumped up to meet him when he came inside.

"How is she?" she asked.

"She's fine," he said. "Not poisoned."

"Not poisoned?" Zoey came up from behind May, and she was soon followed with the others.

"Paul misfired," Drew said, which was the nicest way he could word it. "I think he was already suspicious of whoever she met with before us, and so when she passed out, he assumed he'd done something to her."

Dawn frowned.

"Well, she was looking a little off when she left the office..." she offered.

"Something _is_ wrong. We just don't know what," Drew clarified. "Has anyone called the CIU office?"

"I did," May said. "I talked to Ursula. I told her we're probably going to be a while."

Drew pressed his lips into a hard line.

"Yeah," he agreed.

"Are we just gonna wait here, then?" Barry asked.

"Do you honestly think any of us could focus if we went back?" Kenny said. "I mean, are we even going to launch tomorrow anymore?"

"We have to. There's already a press release out to every major media outlet, and it's on hold until midnight," Zoey said.

"Right." Drew nodded. "Launch is still tomorrow. I'm assuming the rest of the staff knows what they're doing and can handle themselves fine. Even if Iris wasn't our friend, it would be in good taste to see this play out."

"So we wait?" Dawn asked.

"So we wait," Drew affirmed.

"_Breaking news—_" The group turned their heads toward the anchor on the television screen. "_—we've just received word that Unova Champion Iris Ajagara was admitted to the Opelucid City Hospital this morning for reasons PNN's fact-checking team cannot confirm. Yet, there are sources who say Ajagara was poisoned-"_

"-This is not good," Drew said, letting out a frustrated sigh.

* * *

"Ah..." Burgundy cast a quick glance at the clock and nervously clapped her hands together. "Okay! It looks like we're out of time today. Have a nice weekend, and make sure to read Chapter 3 of Poltiere's book before class next Tuesday."

As the students began to pack up and shuffle out of the classroom, Burgundy headed for her purse and pulled out her cell phone, turning it on. No new messages. She decided to text Georgia herself.

'Any updates?'

She set the phone aside and started to shut down the computer. Burgundy didn't notice that one of the students had stayed behind, quietly waiting for her to finish up her business.

It didn't take long for Georgia to text back. Burgundy retrieved her phone again as soon as it buzzed.

'Iris is conscious. Doc doesn't think she was poisoned. They're running tests.'

Burgundy breathed out and typed a reply:

'I'll be down there soon.'

This time when she set her phone aside, she noticed the student waiting. Burgundy looked at her cautiously before asking, "Can I help you?"

The student appeared a little nervous, but she said, "I'm just wondering if Professor Griffith is okay. He kind of left in a hurry in the middle of class."

"He's fine," Burgundy dismissed. "He just had a family emergency."

"Oh, I see... I hope everything's okay..." The student trailed off. "Thank you for teaching the rest of class, by the way. You did a really great job."

Burgundy stared. Then, she let out a disbelieving chuckle.

"I don't control your grade," she said.

"Oh, no!" The student panicked, waving her hands. "I didn't mean it like that. It was just cool, I guess. There aren't a lot of female teachers at the PCA, so it's really nice to have, you know, someone like you here."

Burgundy was silent for a long moment, unsure of what to say in response. She brushed one of her violet curls behind her ear.

"What's your name again?" she finally asked.

"Karina."

"Well, Karina," Burgundy began, slinging her purse over her shoulder. "I'll let Professor Griffith know you were thinking about him." She paused and turned to raise the projector screen before facing the girl again. "Come on, I'll walk you out."

_**May 28th, 2009. Afternoon. Indigo Plateau.**_

Leaf had only just walked into her office when her cell phone rang. She was tempted to ignore it, thinking it was probably Mr. Goodshow wanting to talk about the Championship match between her and Ash, but she checked the caller ID anyway. She raised an eyebrow when she realized it was Gary calling.

"Hello, Garebear," she greeted with a false, sultry tone.

"_Hey, what's up with Iris?_" he asked, passing up the chance to entertain her.

"I don't know. I don't know her life," Leaf half-laughed. "Why are you asking?"

"_Our group just got to Pallet Town, and Delia had the television on when we walked inside,_" Gary explained. "_They're saying Iris is in the hospital because someone tried to poison her._"

"Excuse me?" Leaf no longer sounded amused.

"_It's on TV,_" Gary continued. "_You haven't heard anything about it?_"

"No, I-" She stopped short, grabbing the remote off her desk and turning on the television that hung on her wall. True to Gary's word, the anchors were talking about Iris's apparent stay in the hospital. "I'm going to have to get back to you."

She hung up and immediately dialed another number. It wasn't long before the other end picked up.

"_I was just about to call you,_" Paul started.

"Paul, what the hell am I watching?" Leaf angrily demanded.

"_Calm down. It's not as bad as you think._"

"PNN is reporting that she's in the hospital with rumors circulating that she was _poisoned_. That sounds pretty bad to me," Leaf retorted.

"_I... didn't know PNN was reporting that,_" Paul admitted. "_I don't know how they would have found out about that._"

"Well, they are. Was she?"

"_No,_" he answered. "_We were worried about it, but that's not the case._"

"What is then?" Leaf asked.

"_We're not sure,_" Paul replied. "_She passed out, but she's fine now. They're doing some bloodwork to figure out what's wrong._"

"Great," Leaf mumbled. "Just great."

"_Do we need to release a statement?_"

"No, not now," Leaf said. "Wait until you have figured out what's wrong with her, and then release a statement. I'll write it, in fact. Don't bother Wallace."

"_Noted. I'll keep you updated._"

"Thank you."

Leaf tossed her phone aside when the call ended. She fell back into her chair and raked her fingers through her hair. The television was still running, and she couldn't bring herself to turn it off yet.

_**May 28th, 2009. Early Evening. Opelucid City.**_

Cilan pulled back the curtains in Iris's room, gazing at the several news trucks that had gathered outside the hospital front entrance; there were even more now than there were when he last checked. He sighed and sat down again beside Paul. They had been waiting for _hours_ for the results of Iris's bloodwork. A nurse would occasionally check in, and she had ushered Trip and Georgia out earlier, but otherwise, they were left to their own devices.

"I'm sorry," Paul said in a quiet, gruff voice.

"Don't apologize," Cilan said. "I'd rather you have overreacted than underreacted."

Iris folded her arms and leaned back into her pillow, angrily averting her eyes. Although she said nothing, her expression told them that she disagreed.

The door opened, and Dr. Dansforth suddenly strolled in.

"Sorry for the wait," he said. "I have your results."

"_Finally_," Iris breathed, sitting up straight once more.

"What is it, doctor?" Cilan asked more politely.

"Well," he began, sitting down, addressing Iris. "We explored several different possibilities, but the first abnormality we found was in your ferritin levels test, which reflects how much iron is stored in the body. It was lower than it should have been, so we ran a complete blood count, and sure enough, you have a low count of red blood cells."

"Which means... ?" Paul asked.

"She has iron deficiency anemia," Dansforth answered. "It's associated a lot of different symptoms—fatigue, dizziness, shortness of breath, pale skin, sometimes even fainting spells. An iron deficiency means less hemoglobin, which means smaller and fewer red blood cells. Those blood cells are what carry oxygen to your brain, and when there's a lack of that, it can cause those feelings of lightheadedness."

"Anemia?" Iris sounded alarmed. "I've never had these problems before, though."

"That doesn't surprise me in your condition," Dansforth said frankly.

"In my condition?"

"You see, Ms. Ajagara, your blood also has a high level of the hCG hormone," Dansforth continued, "and it's not uncommon for women with child to develop a temporary anemia."

"Excuse me?" Cilan drew back in surprise, unsure of what he heard. Iris's throat tightened, and Paul also perked up.

Dansforth smiled.

"Ms. Ajagara, you're pregnant," he said.

* * *

"Ugh, I swear I've seen this re-run like 80 times," Barry moaned aloud, only two minutes into an airing of the show, Proteam Omega. The group had collectively agreed to change the channel earlier when they grew tired of hearing journalists speculate about Iris and the alleged second assassination attempt, this time by poisoning. "Can I fine whoever puts together the schedule on this network for never showing anymore episodes?"

"It's a _classic_, Barry," Kenny argued. "This is the episode where Pikachu crashes his plane, and Poliwhirl cries over him while he recovers in the Pokémon Center before confessing her undying love for him."

"Pikachu and Poliwhirl aren't even in the same egg group," Trip pointed out. His head was propped up on his hand, and he was skimming through an article he'd pulled up on his PokéPad—'Houndoom who attacked trainer escapes from temporary holding.'

"_Yes_, thank you," Barry said.

"Their love transcends egg groups," Kenny protested.

"Isn't the target audience for this show like 12-year-old boys? Why are we watching it?" Georgia asked, folding her arms.

"Because it's a good show, regardless of who the target audience is," Kenny dismissed.

"Uh-huh..."

Burgundy's shoulders sagged when she sighed.

"Ugh," she droned. "I don't think watching cartoons while waiting in the hospital is a part of my job description."

"You know, you can leave," Zoey suggested, annoyed.

"_Non_," Burgundy said with a wave of her hand. "I need to stay in Cilan's good favor."

The group's attention was soon drawn to the door, through which Chili and Cress hurried inside.

"Are there any updates?" Cress immediately went to Trip.

"How much do you know?" Trip asked.

"That she wasn't poisoned."

"We haven't heard anything more than that." Trip shook his head. "Although, Iris was fine and talking when I was last with her. The nurse kicked Georgia and I out because visiting hours were technically over. They only let Cilan stay because he's her husband and Paul because he's the Sinnoh Champion."

"That's good, at least..." Chili said.

"Geez, you two are late to the party," Georgia said to the brothers wryly, craning an eyebrow.

"We closed the restaurant early, but it was still a long drive," Cress explained.

"How long have you guys been here?" Chili asked.

"Iris was admitted around 11-ish, so... seven, eight hours?" Trip answered.

Chili whistled, adding, "You guys are troopers. ... Oh, hey! This is my favorite show!" He squeezed into the seat between Trip and Burgundy. "Aw man, this is the best episode, too!"

"Right?" Kenny inclined his head toward him and grinned.

"I, like, have the entire script memorized," Chili said.

"Just take me now, Giratina," Burgundy moaned, sinking further into her seat. Chili glowered at her, but before he could say anything, Drew spoke.

"It looks like Cilan's coming," he said, rising to his feet.

Nearly everyone else jumped up, too, as Cilan pushed open the door into the waiting room and walked inside. He seemed a little pale himself, not unlike Iris earlier in the day.

"Hey." Chili hurried toward him. "You okay? You don't look so good, man."

"I'm fine," Cilan said shortly.

"How's Iris?" Dawn asked.

"She's fine, too. She's..." He paused to gather himself, and then he let out a quick laugh. "She's pregnant."

A short, stunned silence followed.

"Wow, Cilan, congratulations." Zoey was the first to speak. Her voice was pitched with mild shock.

"A lot better than being poisoned, that's for sure," Georgia added.

"So her fainting this morning... ?" Drew began inquisitively.

"She's anemic, too," Cilan admitted. "The doctor suspects it's induced by the pregnancy. He said she only needs to start taking some iron supplements and adjust her diet, though."

"What a relief..." May smiled, placing a hand on her chest as she sighed. "And how exciting! How far along is she?"

"He estimated seven weeks," Cilan answered.

"So almost two months? Hey, that means you're gonna have a baby, like, either late this year or early next!" Barry exclaimed. "Whoa, you're gonna be a _father_."

"Which means _we're_ gonna be uncles." Chili grinned, slinging an arm around Cress.

Cilan smiled weakly.

"I know," he said. "It, ah, hasn't quite sunk in yet... Anyway, I just wanted to let you all know. We're going to check out soon."

"We're just glad everything's okay," Dawn said. "Better than okay. That's great news. I'm happy for both of you!"

"Thank you. I'm-" Cilan paused to amend himself. "We're... We're happy, too."

_**May 28th, 2009. Evening. La Rousse City.**_

Elijah squinted his eyes as he moved through the crowd of other fliers, looking for the people who were meant to greet him when he arrived in the Hoenn utopia, La Rousse City. He finally caught sight of one such person, her distinct, blonde curls standing out in the throng of people.

"Good evening, Ana," Elijah greeted as he approached.

"Good evening," Ana tacitly replied. "How was your meeting with Iris?"

"Unsuccessful, I'm afraid," Elijah answered. "We parted on good terms, though, and I do hope she changes her mind in the coming weeks."

"You didn't hear, then?"

"Hear what?"

"She was admitted into the hospital. They fear someone tried to poison her."

Elijah raised his eyebrows.

"That's terrible!" he said. "I hope she pulls through. If she does, perhaps she'll change her mind quicker than I first imagined. I should send her flowers." He shook his head. "How is our other client?"

"Ill," she said. "Very ill."

"Such as shame," Elijah sighed. "It is ironic how the misfortune of one benefits others."

"We've run into a problem, though."

"That is?"

"He hasn't signed off on his will, yet," she said. "He wants to see his son first."

_**May 28th, 2009. Evening. Opelucid City.**_

"Well, if everything's okay now, then I'm ready to get out of here," Georgia said, suppressing a yawn. "Burgundy, do you need a ride?"

"Yes, please," Burgundy mumbled, standing. "I took the bus here."

"And what about you, Mr. Photographer?" Georgia turned to Trip, who blinked in surprise.

"Oh, I can just walk home," he dismissed.

"Where do you live?"

"On 44th and Thomas."

"That's a _long_ walk from here," Georgia scoffed. "Just come with us."

Trip appeared wary, but mumbled a thanks.

Georgia nodded before turning toward Burgundy and saying, "Get your stuff, Burgundy, we're leaving. I want to see if I can catch Iris checking out."

Burgundy rolled her eyes, but collected her purse anyway, preparing to go with them. Yet, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Cilan walking by with his brothers. He noticed her, too, as she caught his gaze. He then apparently told his brothers to go on without him, as they soon left him behind.

"Hang on," Burgundy told Georgia and Trip. She let Cilan approach her.

"I wouldn't have expected you to come and wait this whole day," he said when they met. "I'm very sorry for all this mess."

"Oh well, you know**—**" Burgundy folded her arms, averting her eyes. "—Karina wanted me to tell you she was worried, so here I am telling you."

"She is a sweetheart, that Karina," Cilan said. "How did class go after I left?"

"Okay, I guess." Burgundy shrugged, and Cilan only smiled.

"I really am grateful to you," he said. "I understand it must have been intimidating to suddenly be put in charge of a group of teenagers and be expected to teach them, especially since they probably had the sense that something was wrong. Is there anything I can for you in return?"

Burgundy's lip twitched.

"No," she said.

"Burgundy, are you coming?" Georgia called out to her.

"_Yes_," Burgundy replied, annoyed. She addressed Cilan again: "I'll see you in class Tuesday."

"Take care of yourself until then," he said. Burgundy nodded and turned to follow Georgia and Trip out. Cilan watched them for a moment before he, too, began to leave in a different direction.

"Wait," Burgundy said suddenly. Cilan stopped and and looked back at her, while she slowly turned to face him again.

"Could you..." She hesitated. "I mean, only if you have one... Could you print me a copy of the class roster? The one with the ID pictures? I think I'd like to memorize the students' names."

Cilan appeared briefly surprised, but he soon melted into another smile.

"I'd love to," he said.

"Thanks." Burgundy turned away again, but she threw her gaze over her shoulder one last time to make another comment. "And congratulations."

* * *

"I'm sorry our meeting got interrupted today," Iris said sheepishly, speaking with Drew and the other CIU staffers. "I promise I'll go back home and look for that financial record again... without fainting."

Zoey chuckled and said, "Really, we're just happy that you're all right."

"Thanks." Iris fiddled with her patient wristband, trying to slip it off. "Anyway, I hope-"

"-Hey—" Georgia came up from behind Iris, giving her a friendly smack on her backside. Iris looked up, and Georgia saluted her as she kept going toward the exit with Trip and Burgundy in tow. "—We're on our way out. Congratulations. Have fun being a parasitic host for the next seven months."

"Bye," Iris replied dryly.

"Who is she anyway?" Barry asked once she was gone.

"Georgia Hamilton," Iris answered. "She's the next member of the Unova Elite Four. You've all met her before, when she rescued us from the police station, and you probably saw her more recently at my inauguration."

"She seems like she's got quite a personality on her," Drew remarked.

"You have _no_ idea."

Cilan soon joined the group with Paul following close behind.

"You're all set," Cilan told Iris. "We can go home now."

"Good." Iris appeared relieved.

"What're you going to do about those news trucks in front of the hospital, though?" May inquired.

"Not a concern," Paul said gruffly. "I spoke with the hospital staff. We're leaving through a side entrance. Cole will pick us up."

"Sounds like a plan," Kenny said.

"Yeah," Iris agreed. "I'll see you guys soon. Good luck with launch tomorrow."

She turned away to leave with Cilan and Paul. Dawn, however, reached out to Paul, saying, "Paul, I'll see you at home."

Yet, he only grunted in response, and he soon disappeared with the couple. Dawn fell back with a worried expression.

* * *

"I can't believe she's _pregnant_," Burgundy huffed, her arms folded. She sat in front passenger seat beside Georgia, while Trip occupied one of the back seats. "All this fuss because she's having a baby. Ridiculous."

"Paul really did botch this one," Georgia half-laughed.

"Don't speak badly of Paul," Trip grumbled.

"Not speaking badly, just speaking the truth," Georgia said.

"You know, you're as much at fault for this as him and me. You were there, and you're a part of Team Iris now. You panicked, too," Trip pointed out.

"I did_ not_ panic," Georgia scoffed. "And no, I'm not a part of 'Team Iris.' I never got the chance to finish my paperwork and fax it. Even when I do, I won't be a part of Team Iris. I will always be Team Me."

"It's cute how you stayed at the hospital all day, then," Trip remarked.

"Oh yeah? You wanna know what's really cute, though?" Georgia asked snidely. "_Burgundy_ staying at the hospital all day. She even sent me worried text messages after class. How sweet."

"Don't bring me into this." Burgundy grimaced. "Like I said, I'm trying to stay in Cilan's good favor. I need to get accepted into the S-Class program, and Cilan's the only way that's going to happen."

"Wow," Trip sighed. "Even after all this time, you two are still some of the most immature, self-serving people I've ever met."

"Hey, I'm giving you a ride home," Georgia reminded.

"I was fine with walking."

Georgia looked annoyed now, and she turned her head to glare back at him. Just as her eyes left the road, however, an adult male stumbled directly into her path.

"You know what-" she began angrily, but she was cut off when Burgundy shrieked. Georgia snapped her head forward again and slammed on the breaks. The man stopped in the middle of the road, looking at the car like a near-literal Deerling in the headlights. The car skidded to a halt, but not soon enough, and there was a sickening thump against the bumper as he went down.

The three sat in shock for a moment. Trip was the first to speak.

"Arceus, did you just hit someone?" he asked.

Georgia breathed out, brushing her hair away from her face.

"Just come on," she said, putting her car into park and throwing her door open to check on the victim. Trip and Burgundy followed suit. They found him lying crumpled in front of her car, unconscious. His black and white cap had fallen off, and his long, green hair was sprawled on the asphalt.

"Please don't be dead." Georgia sounded more angry than pleading as she dropped to the man's side. "I only hit you at 20 mph."

"I-I think he's still breathing," Burgundy said as she also leaned over him. She moved her hand to his neck. "He has a pulse."

"And something else—" Trip bent down and picked up the man's cap off the ground. He showed them the worn blue, black, and white patch that was loosely sewn on the front. "—This is the crest of Team Plasma on his hat."

A short silence ensued, and then Burgundy breathed in sharply.

"Trip, there's blood on that," she said, her voice shaking.

Trip blinked and looked down. Sure enough, the back rim was tainted with a thick red liquid, and it was dripping. The headlights also revealed another streak of red across the pavement, the man having fallen back and hitting his head when the car made impact. Georgia growled, though she seemed more shaken now, too, as she stood and headed back into her car to retrieve her phone from the cupholder.

"I'm calling for an ambulance," she said. "Looks like we're going back to the hospital."

* * *

"It is a shame Cress and Chili had to leave so soon, just after getting here," Cilan sighed as he guided Iris into the dark living room. He flicked on the lights and dropped his bag off on the chair. It has been a long day, and he was glad they were finally home. "I understand, though, with the restaurant. They did say they wanted to come visit us under better circumstances soon, perhaps next weekend..."

Iris looked at him strangely. She didn't know why he was talking about this; the topic seemed inane compared to the matter at hand.

"Once things settle down more, it might be nice for us to go down there, too, instead of the other way around," Cilan continued. "We could stop by the Village of Dragons as well if-"

"-Cilan," Iris cut him off, having heard enough. She wanted to get to the thing that was on both their minds.

"Yes?"

"We are..." She took in a deep breath. "We are not ready to have kids. Not with you just getting into teaching, not with me just becoming Champion—especially since someone just tried to kill me several weeks ago, and everyone thought someone tried to kill me again today."

Cilan paused, staring at her soberly for a long moment.

"You're right. We're not ready to have children," he quietly agreed. "But I don't think anyone ever is."

"That does not make me feel better."

"Then take comfort in that you're not due until January," he said. "We have plenty of time before then. And even when he—or she—comes, we'll be okay. I'll take the spring semester off next year. It won't be a problem. I could send an email for President Poltiere tonight, if you wanted."

Iris groaned.

"I don't want you to take a semester off," she said. "That would make me feel even more guilty."

"Guilty?" Cilan's expression twisted with confusion. "Why are you feeling guilty?"

"I don't know, I just—agh!" Iris fell back onto the sofa. "I feel like I cause so many for problems for so many people. For you, for Paul, for Leaf, for all my friends. I'm a huge inconvenience, and I know I'm definitely holding back Paul and Leaf. I haven't even picked a chief for the new G-Men yet."

"You did pick a new Elite Four member, though," Cilan reminded.

"Go me."

"It's true." He shrugged.

Iris frowned, sinking further into the cushions.

"What's worse," she began, "is that I feel like I should be happy. We're having a baby! Everyone else seems excited! I'm not so sure I am, though."

Cilan smiled weakly.

"I'll admit..." He also sat down, wrapping an arm around her. "... I'm just as apprehensive as you. I _do_ know we'll be just fine, though. I love you, and I've always known I wanted to have children with you. It's just happening a bit earlier than we might have planned."

"Not _always_," Iris corrected.

"The point still stands."

Iris's lips curved into a small smile.

"Well, I love you, too," she said. "And I... I also know we'll be okay."

He pulled her into a kiss, and she quickly melted against him. The sound of a vibrating cell phone interrupted them, however, as it rattled against some type of hard surface.

"I think that's yours." Cilan pulled a mere inch away, his words hot on her face.

"Mhm..."

"You should get it," he encouraged. "It's probably Leaf, or another friend concerned for your wellbeing."

"Right." Iris untangled herself from him as she stood, seeking the device. She found it on the table when she heard it vibrate again.

"Hello?" Iris said when she picked up. She paused, listening. "Georgia... ?"

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**End of Part I: The Impact**

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_Part II to begin in two weeks._


	8. VII: In Which Solidad Reprises Her Role

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**Part II: The Infection**

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Chapter VII: In Which Solidad Reprises Her Role

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_**May 29th, 2009. Morning. Opelucid City.**_

"You'll continue down the hallway, and her office will be to your right," Agent Gray directed Burgundy, pointing down the passageway. "Good luck."

Burgundy nodded, unnerved by her well wishes. She received a call early that morning from Cilan, of all people, informing her that her presence was requested at the Opelucid Gym. They—and he didn't clarify who fell under this umbrella term—were apparently meeting to discuss last night's events.

She fixed her hair as she walked, pulling her long curls behind her shoulders. When she reached the cracked-open door, she peered inside and found that Iris was indeed there—and she was joined by, of course, her husband, as well as Paul, Trip, and Georgia. All five looked up when they heard her arrive.

"Hi, Burgundy," Iris said kindly. "Sit anywhere you like."

Burgundy hesitantly pushed the door open just enough for her to slide inside. She chose a seat next to Georgia, which, ironically, was also next to Cilan. No one said anything further for a long moment. Burgundy frowned. She found it strange; for something that was supposed to be discussion, there wasn't a lot of discussing.

"Don't worry," Cilan said as he leaned toward her, speaking in just above a whisper. "She won't be mad at you."

Burgundy blinked and cast him a wary look.

"Who won't?"

Suddenly, the door swung fully open, the handle hitting the doorstop, and there stood Leaf. She was expressionless, and her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, while her loose gray dress hung slightly wrinkled from her waist down. She was visibly tired; the skin beneath her blue eyes had grayed. Her hand still grasped the handle of her wheeled suitcase, and Agent Murray stood behind her.

No one said anything. Then, she cleared her throat.

"Agent Murray, can you please step out for a few minutes?" she asked. He nodded and closed the door. Leaf pulled her suitcase up beside her and pushed the handle down. She straightened up, putting her hands on her hips and tightly closing the gap between her thighs.

She breathed in, and then out.

"Good morning," she began in a scarily pleasant tone. "Sleep well? I didn't."

Her comment was met with silence.

"You want to know why I didn't sleep?" Leaf went on. "Because I had to pack in the middle of the night to catch a red-eye flight to Opelucid City so I could stand before you on this beautiful morning."

More silence.

"You know, yesterday was just _fantastic_." Leaf now spoke with a thick sarcasm. "Really, it was something else. Paul, you—" She turned to him, acknowledging him with her hand. "—you truly outdid yourself. In the history of the G-Men's screw-ups, an ever-growing list it seems, this has got to be one of my favorites."

Paul's lip twitched, but he said nothing.

"How did it get to this?" Leaf asked. "How is that the whole nation thinks someone made a second assassination attempt on Iris yesterday when she is actually _pregnant_? This isn't a rhetorical question. I genuinely want to know. What happened?"

"It started because Iris had a meeting with SAMPLe," Paul began.

"Who?"

"They're a rescue," Iris jumped in.

"And they're relevant because... ?" Leaf's patience was thinning.

"The representative they sent seemed a little slimy," Trip said. "Paul didn't like him, and I didn't either. We were there to make sure nothing went wrong."

"And you two clearly did a fine job, but go on," Leaf said bitterly.

"We stayed out in the hall, Iris met with him, and when she came out, she looked sick," Paul continued. "Then, when she passed out while meeting with Drew and the others, I noticed there was a drink on her desk and..."

Leaf stared.

"That's _it_?" she said disbelievingly. "You thought she had been poisoned because there was _a drink_ on her desk?! Paul, this isn't a game of Battleship. You can't just make a wild guess and hope you hit something."

"I-" he began defensively, but she cut him off.

"-No, I'm not done yet," she snapped. "This is something that should _not_ have resulted in a hospital trip. Did Iris need to see a doctor? Yes. But we did not need a dramatic trip to the emergency room. And on that note, Iris, if you're not feeling well, for love of Mew, go see a doctor."

Iris sheepishly nodded.

"This has been blown way out of proportion," Leaf said. "Really, it all could have been avoided entirely—Iris fainting, the poisoning fiasco, even this car accident—and that's the most frustrating part. I'm supposed to be training for my match against Ash, and instead, I'm here cleaning up all _your_ mess. The media has had a heyday with this. Thank goodness they don't know about the accident yet."

"I have no idea how they would have even figured out we were worried about Iris being poisoned," Paul protested, finally getting the chance to try to defend himself. "That isn't my fault."

"Oh really?" Leaf challenged. "Because I could think of a few ways this could have leaked. Hmm, let's see... Well, there are our friends on the CIU staff. One of them could have called the office to let everyone know what had happened, and it could have easily gotten out from there. Or maybe one of Cilan's students overheard something when he left class, and they texted 'LOL our professor's wife was poisoned' on blast to all their friends. Or maybe a friend or family member of another patient caught wind of the story in the hospital, or maybe even a nurse snitched on us. The point is, it's there, it happened, and now I've got to fix it."

She paused and took in a deep breath, calming herself.

"There is a very important lesson you three—" Leaf pointed to Paul, and then to Cilan and Iris. "—need to learn: Your lives are now public property. Anything you say, anything you do, anything that happens to you... There is a chance it will end up a headline on some website somewhere. Is it fair? No. But that's the reality. You _have_ to be careful."

"I'm sorry," Georgia interjected, annoyed, "but I can't see how this is as terrible as you make it out to be. Iris being pregnant is a good thing. It sure beats actually being poisoned."

"No, it's not a good thing, and I'll tell you why," Leaf countered. "People are already skeptical of having Iris as a leader, and it's going to draw a lot of criticism for her to be starting a family when she, theoretically, should be focusing on snagging Team Plasma. Do you know why Cynthia kept it secret for months that she was pregnant with Emily? Because the nation was in crisis, and she would be unfairly demonized for a perceived lack of priorities. Yes, it's sexist. But still, for our hand to be forced in announcing a pregnancy this early is embarrassing. And then there's the car accident..."

She stopped, shaking her head.

"You three were the only ones involved, right?" she asked, now addressing Georgia, Trip, and Burgundy.

"Other than the guy Georgia hit? Yeah," Trip said, and Georgia sent him a nasty look.

"The man with the crest of Team Plasma on his hat?" Leaf pressed. "And how is he?"

"Currently unconscious, but stable," Cilan answered. "Several broken ribs, broken arm, cracked skull."

"Okay..." Leaf trailed off, and then looked specifically at Burgundy, who straightened up. "Now, who are you?"

"Burgundy Myers. I'm Cilan's TA," Burgundy quickly answered.

"Uh-huh..." Leaf turned to Georgia next. "And I remember you. You're Georgia Hamilton, Iris's pick for her Elite Four."

"Yup." Georgia nodded.

Leaf stared at her for a long moment. Then, she let out a sigh.

"There isn't an easy way to say this: Georgia, you're going to have to resign," Leaf said. Burgundy drew in a sharp breath, and Trip frowned, casting Georgia a quick glance. Cilan appeared troubled, while Iris looked alarmed. Georgia herself, however, was expressionless. Leaf continued, "Iris cannot take another hit to her reputation. I don't need the Unova Championship to turn into a bigger soap opera than it already is, and since you haven't been publicly announced as the new Elite Four member, we can just quietly part ways."

"_What?_" Iris said disbelievingly.

"Resignation isn't even necessary," Georgia said. Her expression remained even, showing no signs or surprise or even disappointment. "I never finished my paperwork. I haven't signed my contract yet. I can just leave and get out of Iris's tangled mass of hair."

"Even better."

"No, I'm sorry. This is where I put my foot down," Iris said firmly. "I am _not_ going to make Georgia leave because of the accident. It wasn't even her fault. He was jaywalking."

"Do you think other people care?" Leaf asked.

"I don't care what other people think, actually," Iris countered.

"You can't afford to take that attitude," Leaf fought back.

"I'll take out a loan, then."

"Iris, listen here-" Leaf started, but she was cut off.

"-No, _you_ listen." Iris's voice rose as did she, catching everyone in the room, including Leaf, off-guard. "This is _my_ division. You cannot come here and tell my Elite Four member what to do. Georgia stays—unless she decides to leave herself."

Now Georgia appeared surprised, her eyes wide and confused. The others shared similar expressions, and Leaf wasn't sure what to say for a long moment.

"... Fine," Leaf finally gave in. "But we're not going to announce her as the new Elite Four member for a while, then."

"How long?" Iris asked.

"Several weeks, at the very least," Leaf answered. She then addressed Georgia, saying, "You're not as important a public figure as a gym leader. So if it comes out, it probably won't blow up. In fact, maybe we can prevent the news from getting out at all, if everyone in this room just _stays quiet_ about it. Am I understood?"

"Y-Yes," Georgia said, and the others nodded, too.

"Understand, too, Iris, that this comes at a cost." Leaf turned back to Iris. "It's not going to look good on you to have an empty space in the Elite Four for as long as you'll have it. It'll make people think you're struggling to fill the position _because_ of the mess that is the Unova Championship, or that you're just a lame Ducklett."

"Yeah, well," Iris began with a tired sigh, "I'm pregnant. I'm sure _some_ people will understand."

Leaf said nothing in response. She rubbed the back of her neck—it still had a crick in it from the long flight—and looked away, thinking.

"Where is the CIU office?" she started anew. "I need to speak with Drew and the others, too. Paul, can you ask Dawn for the address?"

"Mm," Paul replied.

"Is that a yes or no?" Leaf asked, annoyed.

"Yes."

"Thank you," Leaf said shortly. Cilan rose to his feet, standing alongside Iris.

"Leaf, I can show you to our guest room," he said. "You can use the washroom to clean up before you head to the CIU office."

"That'd be nice, thank you." She grabbed the handle of her suitcase again and opened the door. Agent Murray was still waiting outside. She told him, "I'm going to need another ride to the CIU office soon."

"Understood, Ms. Greene," he said as she left the room.

Cilan was about to follow, but at the last moment, he turned to Burgundy and said, "Thank you for coming. I'm sorry to interrupt your morning with all this."

"Yeah," Iris added, addressing the whole of the group. "Sorry you all had to listen to Leaf yell for ten minutes. Georgia, are you going to finish that paperwork?"

"I, uh..." Georgia sounded uncharacteristically uncertain. She understood it was an indirect question of whether she still wanted to be a part of the Elite Four. "It's sitting home on my desk. I can finish it tonight and fax it later. I mean, I'm apparently not in a rush since you guys don't want to announce it for several weeks."

"Sure. Take your time," Iris said. "Anyway, you guys can go. I don't want to talk your ear off anymore than Leaf already did."

Cilan kindly held the door for Burgundy, Georgia, and Trip before leaving to find Leaf. Iris and Paul stayed behind in the office, with Paul getting out his phone to text Dawn.

Down the hallway, Trip pressed the button on the elevator to go down. When the doors opened, Georgia and Burgundy stepped inside with him.

"That was intense," was all Burgundy could say when the doors closed again and they were alone.

"Leaf can be an intense person," Trip dismissed. "When she gets mad, she gets really mad."

"I can see that," Georgia said. The elevator doors opened again, and the three headed out together.

"You know, Iris really did you a solid," Trip said, turning to Georgia.

"She didn't need to," Georgia said. "I had a feeling they were going to ask me to resign when I got the call this morning. I did not expect Iris to... well..."

"None of us did. And you know why?" Trip asked. "Leaf outranks Iris, not just in experience, but in a very technical sense, too—and Iris went to bat for you anyway. You should be grateful."

Georgia was silent for a moment as she brushed her bangs out of her face.

"Do you two want to get some breakfast?" she asked suddenly. "On me."

"Breakfast?" Burgundy blinked.

"Since we're all here," Georgia explained in brief.

"Well, I'm for it," Burgundy said. "I wasn't able to eat when I left my apartment this morning."

"Yeah, with the kind of money you don't make, you'd be stupid to turn down free food," Georgia sassed her before turning her eye back toward Trip. "And you?"

Initially, he hesitated. Then, he gave in, saying, "Sure, why not."

* * *

"Us, Iris, us, Iris, us, us..." Zoey mumbled as she flipped through the news channels, checking the coverage. She sighed and set the remote down. "Well, it's better than I thought! I suppose since Iris went to the hospital yesterday and her office still hasn't commented on it yet, they're running out of things to talk about, so they're focusing on us."

"That's good, isn't it?" May asked.

"It's good until Iris _does_ say something," Zoey explained. "Contests coming to Unova is big news, but so is the Unova Champion being pregnant, and we'll be competing for airtime."

Dawn frowned, but perked up when she felt her phone vibrate in her back pocket. She pulled it out and was surprised to see she had a text from Paul; he rarely messaged her. She opened it up and read it: 'Where is your office?' She furrowed her eyebrows, appearing a little apprehensive as she typed out the address and sent it. She then set the phone down.

"What is it?" May asked, noticing her friend's expression.

"Paul just asked me for the address to the office," Dawn answered.

"The CIU office?" Zoey inquired.

"Mhm," Dawn hummed affirmatively. "I think... he might be coming here? Maybe?"

"Oh, that'll be nice!" May said. "We don't get to see Paul that much."

"I think he wants to talk to me about yesterday," Dawn said.

"What about yesterday? I mean, the hospital trip or... ?" May asked.

"I think she means what happened before we met with Iris," Zoey said. "When Drew made that comment."

Dawn lowered her eyes.

"Yeah..." she admitted, trailing off. "He was mad. I wanted to talk to him about it when I got home, but he got pulled into something else, so it never ended up happening."

"I've got to say, I'm a bit surprised you talked to _Drew_ about relationship problems with Paul and not us," Zoey said.

"It was just something I wanted Drew's insight on," Dawn dismissed.

"'Not paying enough attention to your girlfriend?'" Zoey repeated the words used. "I know there are a couple of ways you can interpret that, but the one that comes to mind-"

"-You know," Dawn coughed. "I'd rather not talk about this now. Him coming is a good thing—and kind of a surprise, honestly. Paul's usual solution to fixing problems is ignoring them."

"_Yo!_" Barry yelled out into the office as he burst through the doors with Drew and Kenny in tow. He pointed to the stack of large, thin boxes in his hands and said, "We got pizza!"

There were a couple of delighted gasps and even a holler as the three men carried the pizza to a table and organized stacks by toppings. Drew slid a plastic bag hanging from his arm down into his hand and pulled out paper plates and other utensils. The staff began to gather around to grab a slice.

"What's all this for?" May asked, approaching her boyfriend.

"Just a little something to celebrate launch today," Drew said.

"Isn't it a little early for pizza?" Ursula asked snidely.

"It is never too early for pizza," Kenny protested. "They actually say it's a good food to have for breakfast. One slice can have all five food groups: grains, fruit, vegetables, dairy, and most importantly, meat. It's a literal superfood."

"Well, _I'm_ not complaining," Grace said, grabbing a plate, and others soon followed her lead. Within several minutes, everyone had managed to get a piece of the so-called superfood.

"So, what's happened since we've been gone?" Drew asked when he finally settled down, being the last to retrieve a slice for himself.

"People have already started donating on our online donation pool," Kelly said.

"How much?"

"We recently hit $7,000," Tim answered.

"That's a... start," Drew said. It didn't even make a dent in what they needed.

"We have more likes and followers every time I refresh our Facebook and Twitter," Ursula offered.

"That's also a start."

"A good start, I'd say." Everyone's heads turned toward the door, and a breath of shock swept across nearly the entire group when they saw Leaf Greene, the Indigo Champion, standing there. Those who knew Leaf, however—Drew, May, Dawn, Zoey, Kenny, and Barry—seemed more confused than surprised, feeling no sense of being starstruck.

Leaf smiled wryly and strode toward the circle.

"Sorry, am I interrupting something?" she asked.

"Nah, we're just enjoying the fruits of our labor," Barry said. "Want some pizza?"

"I'll pass, but thank you." She looked directly at Drew. "I need to talk to you and the other five privately. The other five—you know who you are."

Drew nodded and set his plate down, brushing the bread dust off his hands.

"We can go out into the hallway," he said.

"Thank you," Leaf replied, letting him lead the way. Once they had gone, the rest of the staff began to speak among themselves in curious whispers. Kenny closed the door behind them as they left.

"This place is a lot closer to the Opelucid Gym than I thought," Leaf remarked distractedly. "It only took Agent Murray a couple minutes to get me here. It's nice, too."

"So, what _are_ you doing here?" Kenny asked. "I don't think any of us knew you were in Unova."

"I arrived under two hours ago," Leaf replied. "I got a call at midnight with some unfavorable news, had to pack up, wake up Gary, and make him drive me to the airport."

"Oh, so..." Dawn began, feeling her heart fall. "... Paul isn't with you?"

"No," Leaf drawled, drawing out the 'o.' "I imagine he doesn't want anything to do with me right now. I kind of chewed him out this morning. He's still at the Opelucid Gym."

Dawn nodded, disappointed. Paul had asked for the address so Leaf could come to the office. He, himself wasn't coming. Zoey frowned and cast Dawn a quick glance, knowing she would be upset.

"I get it. This is about Iris being pregnant, isn't it?" Drew asked.

Leaf hummed, nodding. She then said, "I haven't watched any TV at all since yesterday. Is your campaign getting attention?"

"We're actually doing okay," Zoey answered. "It's been a _little_ slow, but we are getting coverage, and people are donating and following our social media profiles—which you probably heard when we walked in."

"I bet it'll pick up more speed when DJ Mary talks about it on her show today," Kenny added.

"Good. I want to keep it that way," Leaf said. "I'd hate for the news of Iris's pregnancy to swallow up your launch and slow down momentum. That's why I don't want to say anything about it until tomorrow, to make sure you guys keep the spotlight."

"Leaf, that would be..." Drew pressed his hands together, grateful. "Thank you."

"Not a problem," she said. "I only ask for one thing in return: I want to keep things quiet about the accident, and it'd be great if you didn't say anything about it."

"Accident?" May asked, confused. "You mean Iris fainting?"

"Well, _that_, but..." Leaf appeared wary. "You didn't hear?"

"Hear what?" Zoey pressed.

"Ah..." Leaf hesitated. "Trip was in a car accident yesterday coming from the hospital. He's fine. I just want to keep it on the DL."

"We didn't hear anything about that!" Barry exclaimed.

"I'm glad he's okay, though," May added.

"Yeah, now that you know, just don't say anything about it." Leaf glanced behind her. "I have to go. Good luck with your campaign. I'm sure we'll see each other again soon."

"Thanks for dropping in," Kenny said.

"For sure. Have a nice day, and congratulations on launch." Leaf turned around and headed for the elevator. Drew shook his head and opened the door back into the office, and the six shuffled inside.

"Why would Leaf want to keep a car accident with Trip a secret?" May asked in a low voice. "I mean, he's only the league photographer. I wouldn't think it would be that big a deal, especially since he wasn't hurt..."

"I'm pretty sure Trip left with Georgia and that other girl," Zoey said. "Georgia's supposed to be Iris's new Elite Four member. _That's_ why she wants to keep it a secret."

"Oh." May's eyes widened. "That makes sense."

"She's a sly one, that Leaf," Drew half-grumbled.

"Zoey!" Zoey perked up when she heard her name called, and she looked to the side to see Brianna jogging toward her. "There's someone from PNN on the line, and they asked to speak with the person in charge of media relations. They'd like to have Mr. Drew on air for a video chat interview this afternoon, to talk about the campaign."

Zoey and Drew exchanged quick glances, and both smirked. PNN was one of the most popular news channels in the nation; having Drew, already well-known for being a Top Coordinator (among other things), would do wonders for their campaign. Drew nodded to Zoey, and she turned back to Brianna.

"I think we can set something up."

* * *

"That was short," Agent Murray remarked when Leaf slid back into the front passenger seat of the vehicle outside the building. Although the engine was off, the air conditioning was still running to keep the car cool in the summer weather.

"It didn't need to be long," Leaf dismissed. "They're busy anyway, and I didn't want to eat up a lot of their time."

"Paul called me and wanted me to convey a message to you," Agent Murray continued as Leaf settled herself, shutting the door and buckling her seatbelt.

"He called you but not me?" Leaf laughed. "Wow, he _is_ mad. Good. What does he want?"

"The victim in yesterday's accident is apparently now conscious," he said.

"Oh..." Leaf trailed off. "Well... I guess we know where we're going next."

_**May 29th, 2009. Late Morning. Slateport City.**_

"Hey, hun?" Harley poked his head into the living room, where Solidad was reaching on the coach, using her napping Ninetails as a pillow. "I'm going to run some errands. Is there anything you want me to pick up for you? Snacks? Nail polish? A dildo?"

"I'm good, thank you," Solidad tacitly replied. "What errands you running?"

"Oh, you know, you're usual cutesy domestic stuff," Harley answered. "Paying off the credit card, getting some groceries, stopping by our local erotica shop to flirt with the man behind the counter. I'm buying some alcohol afterward as a reward."

"Sounds like you have an exciting day ahead of you."

"I do. You know how to reach me if you change your mind and decide you want something~" Harley trilled before disappearing.

Solidad shook her head and resumed reading when she heard him exit through the front door. She was yet again interrupted, however, when she heard her new phone ring. The noise disturbed her Ninetails, who shifted in his sleep, and Solidad sat up and reached for the device on the coffee table. It was an unknown number, and for a moment, she considered turning the phone off—she guessed it was probably a telemarketer, and she didn't want that cutting into her precious no-Harley time—but she picked up anyway.

"Hello?" she asked.

"_Hello, I'm looking to speak with Solidad Natochenny._" The voice was smooth, oily, like it indeed could have belonged to a salesman.

"This is her."

"_Ah. My name is Elijah, and I'm currently overseeing the care for Christopher Rogers. It's my understanding that you're the legal guardian of his son, Andrew._"

Solidad stopped, slowly sitting up straighter. Definitely not a telemarketer; in fact, she might have preferred a telemarketer.

"I... was..." she began cautiously. "I think there's been some type of miscommunication. Drew is 22-years-old, a grown adult. I was his guardian for only three years, until he turned 18."

"_An adult?_"

"Yes," Solidad affirmed.

"_If that's the case, would you mind providing his contact information?_" Elijah asked.

"Why are you looking to talk to Drew?" Solidad sounded wary. She was not going to give away Drew's personal information that easily, especially not to someone apparently associated with his father.

"_His father wants to see him._"

"I can assure you that Drew does not want to see him," Solidad half-laughed.

A long pause followed, and Solidad sensed an air of tension in it.

"_I apologize, Ms. Natochenny, for perhaps I have not effectively conveyed the gravity of the situation,_" Elijah finally spoke again. "_Mr. Rogers is gravely ill. His skin cancer has recurred._"

"His cancer?" Solidad's eyebrows shot up.

"_Yes. Were either you or Andrew aware that he was diagnosed?_" he asked.

"We knew..." Solidad said. "How serious is it?"

"_Very, I'm afraid,_" Elijah replied soberly. "_He's in hospice, too weak to go undergo chemotherapy. His doctors predict he only has only a month left to live, if that. His health is rapidly deteriorating._"

Solidad was at a loss for words. She sat there silently for a moment, processing this new information. Ninetails looked up at her with concern, sensing her distress.

"_Ms. Natochenny, are you still there?_" Elijah asked after a while.

"I am," Solidad said, rubbing her temple with her free hand. "I'm just in shock, I suppose."

"_I'll ask again: Are you willing to provide Andrew's contact information?_"

"No," Solidad replied firmly, without hesitation. "... But I will talk to him and let him know. If he decides to go to La Rousse, that's his prerogative."

"_Will you pass my number along to him?_"

"I'll give him the one saved in my phone," Solidad said.

"_Thank you, Ms. Natochenny. I hope to hear from Andrew soon._" And the line went dead.

_**May 29th, 2009. Late Morning. Opelucid City.**_

It has been years since Leaf last visited the Opelucid City Hospital, wherein she had spent time as both a patient and a visitor within the span of two days, and by the looks of the lobby, it hadn't changed since then. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed a number.

"_What?_" Paul grumbled when he picked up.

"Hey, are you here?" Leaf asked.

"_Where's here?_"

"The hospital."

"_No._"

"Well, you need to come. You can't stop being an active member in this investigation."

"_Aren't you afraid I'll add another bullet point to the growing list of G-Men screw-ups?_" Paul asked sarcastically.

"Stop being a baby and get down here," Leaf scoffed. "It's a short drive. Ask Agent Gray to take you."

"_Should I bring Iris?_"

"No. I don't want her to be seen anywhere near a hospital."

"_Fine. I'll see you soon._" He hung up, and Leaf rolled her eyes. She dropped her cell phone back into her pocket and approached the front desk to speak with the receptionist.

"I need to visit the patient that was brought in late last night after a car accident," she said.

The receptionist was filling out some paperwork, and she didn't looks up when Leaf spoke.

"Are you a family member of said patient?" the receptionist asked.

"No."

"Then I'm afraid-"

"-I'm sorry, I don't think I made myself clear." Leaf cut her off as she reached into her wallet and pulled out her G-Men badge. "I need to see this patient."

The receptionist finally looked up and recognized her.

"My apologies, Ms. Greene," she said. "Do you know the name of this patient?"

"I don't." Leaf shook her head. "How many people come in for car accidents in the middle of the night?"

"You'd be surprised."

Leaf let out a frustrated sigh and tapped her fingers on the counter as she thought.

"... He was apparently wearing a hat with the crest of Team Plasma on the front," Leaf offered.

"Oh... That one," she said, her tone piquing Leaf's interest. The receptionist typed something into her computer, searching for his location. "Third floor, room 306." She then slid a visitor badge toward Leaf. "Good luck..."

"Thank you." Leaf took the badge, pushed herself off the desk, and headed down the hallway, toward an elevator. She pressed the 'up' button and stepped inside. She pulled out her cell phone again and texted Paul the information to the room, to save him a little time with the front desk. When the elevator doors opened again, she headed out into the hallway and passed by several rooms, looking for the one labeled '306.' When she found it, she walked straight up to it, knocked once, and then opened the door.

A nurse was currently attending to the patient sitting inside, and she looked at Leaf with wide eyes. The patient himself, a man with long green hair and steely blue eyes, appeared far less alarmed. He looked at Leaf curiously, his eyes studying her. A bandage was wrapped around his head, and he was wearing a cast on one of his arms.

"Sorry, did the receptionist not call and say I was coming?" Leaf asked.

"N-No," the nurse answered.

"Well, I'm here," Leaf said.

"A visitor?" the patient spoke up, sounding pleasantly surprised. "I wasn't expecting a visitor."

"Hi." Leaf immediately went to shake his unbroken hand. "My name is Leaf Greene."

He appeared somewhat estranged by the gesture, her grabbing his hand and shaking it. He didn't reciprocate, confusion patterned across his face, as if he didn't _know_ he was supposed grasp her hand, too. He shook off the alienation in his expression, however, and replaced it with a smile.

"I'm N," he said.

"... N?" Leaf pulled away, disaffected by his odd behavior. "As in, the letter N?"

"Yes." N nodded. The nurse pulled her things together and quickly left the two alone.

"Is N short for something?" Leaf asked.

"Oh, yes. I'm sorry," N laughed. "My full name is Natural Harmonia Gropius."

"Natural Harmonia-" Leaf stopped short. "That's, uh, quite a mouthful. Is 'Natural' a pseudonym? Is there maybe a different name on your birth certificate?"

"I don't own a birth certificate," N said.

"No?"

"You see, I was raised by Pokémon in the wild," N said. "And I'm afraid they don't issue birth certificates like humans do."

Leaf stared. Then, she let out a nervous laugh.

"You must have hit your head pretty hard yesterday, huh?" she said, still trying to sound pleasant.

"I think I'm doing quite fine, actually," N replied. "I was a little dazed when I first woke up, but I feel much better now. My head still hurts some, but other than that, I'm doing well."

"I... imagine your head would still hurt," Leaf said. "You were hit by a car. I was told you ran out in front of it."

"Oh, I didn't do that purposefully," N quickly said.

"I'm not saying you did it purposefully, but-"

"-I just didn't realize there was a road there," N cut her off; Leaf didn't realize he hadn't finished speaking. Leaf stared at him again, and she was beginning to wonder whether she was wasting her time.

N silently watched her, too, and after a while, he asked, "Why are you talking to me, by the way?"

Leaf sighed.

"To be honest, I was actually interested when I heard about your hat," she admitted.

"My hat?"

"It has the crest of Team Plasma on it."

"What's so special about that?" he asked. The question was genuine, as if he sincerely couldn't fathom why anyone would be interested in something that would associate him with the largest criminal organization in Unova.

"Team Plasma is anti-league," Leaf said simply.

"It is." N nodded.

Leaf's lips quirked into a strange smile.

"You have no idea who I am, do you?" she asked, amused.

"I do. You told me. You're Leaf Greene," N replied, chuckling.

"Leaf Greene, the Champion of the Kanto and Johto regions," Leaf clarified.

"Oh..." There was a change in N's expression, and he appeared a little less friendly, and a lot more wary. Leaf knew it was a risk telling him of her league association, but she was willing to see where this change carried her.

"Team Plasma tried to assassinate one of my friends earlier this month," Leaf went on. "Iris Ajagara is the new Champion of the Unova League, so I know that Team Plasma doesn't like the league very much."

"We didn't try to assassinate her," N protested. Leaf noted the 'we'; he indeed did identify himself as a part of the collective organization. She was also intrigued, however, by his insistence this wasn't an assassination attempt.

"Barret Dunstan had a gun on him, and he was walking toward the stage," she reminded him. She wouldn't be surprised if he didn't know this. He seemed disconnected from reality.

"Yes, I know," N replied. "But there was no intention of _killing_ her."

Leaf scratched out her previous line of thinking.

"Then what _was_ the intention?" Leaf asked.

Before N could answer, the door opened again, but instead of a nurse, Paul slid inside.

"It's about time you got here," Leaf grumbled.

"I got call from Mr. Goodshow, for you," Paul said, ignoring her statement.

"Ugh..." Leaf pressed her hands into her face and moaned. "I completely forgot to tell him I was leaving for Unova. He's probably freaking out, wanting to plan for the match against Ash..."

"Against Ash?" N suddenly interjected, perking up.

"Yes, Ash Ketchum," Leaf said.

"I know Ash." N then amended, "At least, I've heard of him."

"Yeah, who hasn't heard of Ash Ketchum?" Paul scoffed.

"I heard about him from his brother," N continued. "Ash is the one who doesn't keep his partner, Pikachu, in a Pokéball; the one who journeyed in the wilderness for months so he could liberate Moltres and Mewtwo, isn't he?"

Leaf inhaled sharply and then looked to Paul, who appeared equally surprised. Neither knew what to say. N lowered his head, thinking. His lips had curved back into a smile.

"I'll make you a deal, Ms. Greene," he began unexpectedly. "If you can arrange for Ash and I to meet, I'll tell you what you want to know about Team Plasma."

Leaf stayed silent, hesitant.

"Paul, I need to speak with you in the hallway," she said, though her eyes never left N.

* * *

The living quarters of the Opelucid Gym were silent and empty when Cilan entered through the door with a grocery bag slung over his shoulder, and he cast a concerned look about the place. He had initially checked Iris's office when he returned to the gym, but that was empty as well, and now he had no idea where everyone had gone.

"Iris, are you here?" he finally called out.

A short, muffled "yes" followed, and Cilan quirked an eyebrow and rounded the sofa to find Iris laying face-down in the cushions, her arm and her hair hanging off the side.

"Are you okay?" Cilan knelt beside her. "You're not feeling dizzy again, are you?

"I'm fine." Iris's head rose. "I'm just bored."

"Where's Paul?"

"He went to the hospital. The guy from Team Plasma woke up this morning," she explained. "He didn't let me go with him, though. Leaf, apparently, doesn't want me 'seen anywhere near a hospital.'"

Cilan offered her a crooked smile.

"You do realize they're not trying to be exclusive, right? They're trying to look out for your best interests," he said.

"I wish they'd stop," Iris grumbled.

"Iris..."

"I do." She sat up, leaving an open spot on the sofa, which Cilan then took. "I feel so useless, and I'm so tired of breathing in stale air conditioning. Yesterday was the first time I'd been outside the gym in weeks."

"I know it hasn't been fun for you," Cilan sympathized.

"'Not fun' is an understatement."

"I promise we'll visit the Village of Dragons when this blows over," he assured her.

"Which is when? After I lose the title?" A short silence followed, with Cilan unsure of what he could say in response. Iris eventually sighed and added, "I'm sorry. I'm just frustrated."

"I know," Cilan said. "If it's any consolation, I'm really proud of you for what you did this morning. For Georgia."

"Oh, that? That was nothing," Iris said with a wave of her hand. "I know Leaf was mad, but I wasn't going to let Georgia fall on the sword."

"All the same," Cilan continued, "you worry a lot about being a good leader. You certainly were one today."

Iris's lips twitched into a smile but she averted her gaze. As earnest as he was, Iris was not entirely sure she believed his words, as sweet as they were for him to say and for her to hear. Nevertheless, Cilan smiled, too, before he brought the grocery bag onto his lap.

"I brought you some things," he started anew, reaching into the bag.

"What?" Iris asked curiously.

"Prenatal vitamins." Cilan pulled out a medicinal bottle and displayed it nearby on the coffee table. "And Ganlon Berries." He then pulled out one of the fist-sized fruits and handed it to her. "They're rich in iron, typically used in Pokemon food to support defensive power, but they're good for humans, too—like pregnant women with iron deficiencies."

"Oh! It's been a while since I last had one of these!" Iris bit into the berry. "Not bad, either."

"Good!" Cilan stood with the grocery bag and retrieved the bottle of vitamins. "You should consume them as voraciously as you did our supply of Leppa Berries."

"Will do," Iris said. As Cilan turned toward the kitchen to put everything away, Iris reached for and grasped the sleeve of his shirt. "Hey..." She tugged on his sleeve, and he leaned down so she could kiss him. "I am sorry. I know it's not fun for you, either."

Cilan straightened up again.

"Well," he began slowly, "I knew what I was signing up for."

_**February 3rd, 2004. Afternoon. Striaton City.**_

Although the day was only halfway finished, Cilan was already exhausted—mentally, physically, the whole gamut. Tuesdays were always the worst; they required he wake himself at the bright and early hour of 6:30 a.m. to dress appropriately for a nearly three-hour 7:30 a.m. class at the PCA Striaton City campus. From there, he hurried to make the first of three classes at Striaton University, where he was majoring in Social and Behavioral Sciences. He was finished with school by 3:45 p.m., but he had to return home to help his brothers prepare for the dinner rush, during which his breaks were consumed by finishing any assigned readings or homework.

The other weekdays were better, but not by much. At least he had enough time to properly feed himself. His busyness drew out his longing to travel again, and he did some during the summer and other breaks. He knew what he really needed was something to break the suffocating monotony of his overscheduled days, a breath of fresh air, whether literal or not; otherwise, he wasn't sure he could bear the three more years needed to earn his undergraduate and his S-Class certification.

"How were classes today?" Cress politely inquired as Cilan passed through the restaurant kitchen.

"A bit dry, but okay otherwise," Cilan answered. "If you allow me a few minutes to settle down, I can come help you in here."

"Nah, you should take the day off," Chili said as he entered the kitchen from the breakroom, leaning against the doorway.

"Oh no, I couldn't-"

"-It would be rude to your guest to do otherwise," Cress said. Cilan raised an eyebrow.

"My guest?" Just then, Iris appeared from behind Chili, wearing a wry smile on her face. Cilan perked up in surprise and let out a disbelieving breath.

"Iris!" he exclaimed, delighted, and she laughed as they embraced. When he pulled back, he asked, "What are you doing here? I thought you were in Hoenn."

"I _was_ in Hoenn," Iris replied. "I'm back in Unova now."

"For how long?"

"A while, I'd say." She shrugged.

Cilan smiled as he gestured back toward the breakroom, saying, "Well, come! We have a lot to catch up on, I imagine."

As they left, Chili waggled an eyebrow at Cress, who rolled his eyes in response. Inside the breakroom, Cilan laid his bookbag against a leg of the table and began rubbing his shoulder as he sat down. The weight of Tuesdays was not just exhausting; it was painful. Iris slid into the seat across from him.

"So Chili told me you're really stressed out by all your classes," she began casually, leaning her head on her hand.

"I wouldn't say _really_," Cilan replied. "I think I manage as well as any other student."

"Uh-huh, and how many classes are you taking again?"

"Counting both the PCA and Striaton University?"

"... Yeah."

"Seven, so 21 credit hours total. I'm a full-time student at Striaton University, and a part-time one in the S-Class program. I'm on track to graduate after four years in both institutions."

"Geez! That's way too much. Twenty-one hours _plus_ work, _plus_ being a gym leader? You're going to kill yourself," Iris half-chastised. "Why are you even taking both PCA classes and university classes at the same time?"

Cilan frowned but answered, "S-Class Connoisseurs are generally expected to have a degree from another institution of higher education. I'll need my undergrad if I want Gerard Poltiere to greenlight my certification in a little more than three years from now. Most A-Classes aren't even accepted into the S-Class program without another degree."

"Well aren't you special?" Iris said dryly. "So you mean to say if you weren't in the S-Class program now you wouldn't be driving yourself into the ground?"

"I'd always intended to go to college," Cilan reminded her.

"Chili and Cress are in college, but they're not taking 21 credit hours."

"Their situations are different than mine," Cilan politely dismissed. "Chili's taking classes online through DIL, and Cress decided it would be best for him to be a part-time student at Striaton University during the regular school year and take additional classes during the summer."

"Why not do the same?" Iris craned an eyebrow. "It'd be easier on you, I think."

"I told you, S-Class Connoisseurs need another degree, and I don't want to prolong the process," Cilan said. "The way I see it, after I graduate and receive my S-Class rank, I'll be able to do what I love, which is work with young trainers and their Pokémon."

"You're in too much of a hurry to grow up."

"Says the girl who constantly accuses people of being children."

"Not you," Iris scoffed. "I always call you a pain, which you are." She waved a dismissive hand. "To each their own, I guess. Drayden wants me to get my GED through DIL at least. I don't think I could make it through any of the college programs, not that I'm interested anyway."

At the mention of Drayden, Cilan folded his hands and laid them on the table.

"Is that why you're back in Unova then? Has Drayden... ?"

Iris was quiet for a moment. Then, she said, "I don't know if you heard, but Leaf's actually in Sinnoh right now, taking on the Battle Frontier. And Paul was in Kanto, doing the same... I guess things are starting to get pretty serious, so Drayden called me back to train under him and eventually take over the gym."

"It's about building a reputation of strength, I suppose," Cilan mused.

"That's exactly what it's about," Iris said. "I think the plan is for me to be a gym leader for several years, then to go into the Elite Four, then to... yeah. I guess I have it easier than Paul and Leaf, when you think about it. Lance and Cynthia don't have gyms to give them, so they have to make names for themselves the hard way."

"Being a gym leader certainly isn't easy."

"Oh no, I'm not saying it is!" Iris amended. "I'm just glad I don't have to go through the pressure of making sure everyone knows who I am myself. Being a gym leader kind of does that for you. I mean, I've won some Don George Tournaments, but that's not enough, you know? It's kind of complicated. The whole thing is."

"I understand," Cilan said. "It's certainly not something I would ever want to be involved in."

"And yet, you put up with 21 hours worth of classwork a week."

"That's different. My classes may be difficult, but they have set me on a path to a career of decorum, and I'm willing to do what's required of me for that reason." He stopped suddenly, seeing the look Iris was giving him. "I'm sorry. That was terribly rude of me to say."

"No, it's fine," Iris dismissed. "You're not wrong." She paused. "Cilan, you're not going to think any less of me if I end up doing this, are you?"

"Of course not," Cilan insisted. "You'll always be dear to me as a friend, as will all the others. I admire you, in fact. It's not an easy task you have ahead of you. It's that I, myself, could never find it in me to be a participant."

"Because it's not a career of 'decorum'?" Iris challenged him.

"The Champion title is one of honor," Cilan backtracked.

"Not to you." She stopped herself before she could grow too upset. She brushed her fingers through her hair and looked away. "It's okay. Don't worry about it. I'm just giving you a hard time."

_**May 29th, 2009. Late Morning. Opelucid City.**_

"So what's up with this guy?" Paul asked in a low voice, shutting the door behind him as he and Leaf stepped out into the hallway. "He knows about Silver?"

"That's news to me," Leaf said. "Even so, I don't know what to make of him."

"What do you mean?"

"He's kind of-" Leaf stopped, spinning a finger near her head. Paul glowered at her, unappreciative of the sign.

"You do realize he probably has a TBI, right?" he asked.

"I do, but I'm not blowing smoke," Leaf persisted, dropping her hand to her side again. "Not only does this guy say his real name is 'Natural,' he also proclaims he was raised by _Pokémon_. What's really odd is that he say he didn't mean to run out in front of the car, but that he 'just didn't realize there was a road there'—as if he's _actually_ a Deerling or a Stantler."

"So what's your point?" Paul asked.

"I don't know if I want to bring Ash into this," Leaf replied. "Not before we're supposed to face off, and not if this guy is just... ugh."

"Are you seriously worried about your impartiality thing?" Paul groused.

"You _know_ why I'm being strict."

"You're ridiculous."

"Oh, I know it's ridiculous," Leaf said with a short, frustrated laugh. "The league is a joke, and so is the culture surrounding it."

"Look, if you really want to stick to the league's statutes, then just talk through Misty, or even Gary," Paul said, "because I'd still like to know what this N has to say about Team Plasma. ... And I think Ash would be interested in meeting someone who knows Silver, too."

* * *

"_Thank you for joining us, Mr. Hayden,_" the PNN anchor said conclusively, his face taking up the entirety of Drew's laptop screen. On the television, the camerashot of him and the webcam feed of Drew were juxtaposed as the two parties spoke.

"No, thank you, Brian," Drew said.

The feed cut, the segment ended, and Drew closed his laptop and pulled out his earbuds, meeting the sounds of his own staff's cheering. They had remained dead silent for the interview, watching it on the television while Drew sat a short distance away, and now that it was over, they didn't need to be quiet anymore. He was rushed by several staff members and friends.

"That was great, Drew," Kenny complimented.

"Really well done," Zoey agreed. "You were collected, and you sold us well."

"Thank you," Drew said. "It's just another show, right?" He turned to Kelly. "Keep an eye on our donation pool to see if the interview draws us more benefactors."

"Sure thing," Kelly replied, nodding. The staff began to disperse again to return to their jobs, but May lingered with Drew until they were alone. Drew smirked, giving her a knowing look.

"You were wonderful," she said, cupping his cheek and kissing him.

"Am I never not?" he teased.

"You know, some humility wouldn't hurt you," May grumbled as she pulled away. Her eyes then lit up with realization. "Oh! By the way, during the interview, you got a call from Solidad." She reached into her back pocket and pulled out his phone, hanging it back to him. "She said it was important you call her back."

Drew furrowed his eyebrows, accepting the device.

"All right," he said, "I'm just going to step out into the hallways for a few minutes then."

"Okay!" May said cheerfully before leaving to attend to other business. Drew headed for the door, dialing Solidad's number as he did.

"_Drew?_" It didn't take her long to pick up.

"Hey, May said you called," he greeted, opening the door and the shutting it behind him, the glass panels shaking as he did so.

"_Yeah..._" she replied. "_There's something I need to talk to you about._"

"Well obviously, what other reason do people call each other for?"

"_Your father is dying._" She got straight to the point, quickly forcing the words out.

Drew felt an odd chill run through his body, and at first, he wasn't sure if he heard right. He replayed the words in his head and, discovering no substitution, found himself struck dumb for a moment.

"W-What?" he finally managed to stammer out.

"_I received a call from someone who knows your father,_" Solidad explained. "_He said the cancer came back, and that he's currently in hospice._"

"That's... That's impossible." Drew shook his head. "It was only earlier this month I read an article that he had done some fundraiser at the Battle Tower for cancer research. It said he'd been in remission since 2007. How could he go downhill that fast? To be on his deathbed?"

"_I don't know,_" she said. "_I'm just the messenger._"

Drew sighed, raising a hand to rub his temple.

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked.

"_He wants to see you, apparently,_" Solidad answered. "_Your father, I mean._"

Drew hesitated.

"I... don't know about that," he said. He paused before asking, "What should I do?"

"_I can't answer that._"

"Solidad."

"_I can't._"

"You're my adviser Solidad," Drew said, exasperated, "advise me."

He heard her sigh, and she was quiet for a moment as she thought. Finally, she said, "_Well, you have to weigh your options. If you think going back to La Rousse and seeing your father will draw out toxic feelings and trigger your insomnia, then it's probably best you stay in Unova. If you don't go see him, though, you will have to make peace with the fact you'll never see him again._"

"Great choices," Drew said dryly.

"_It's a bad situation. There is no good outcome,_" Solidad said.

"I know."

"_I can give you the number of the man who called me,_" Solidad offered.

"No, I..." Drew cleared his throat. "I don't want to get roped into anything. I'll ask for it if I decide I need it."

"_Okay. I'm sorry,_" she apologized.

"Don't apologize," Drew said. He glanced back through the windowed door into the office. He could tell the staff was excited about something. "I have work to do. I'll talk to you later."

"_Certainly._"

Drew hung up and pushed his way back into the office, where he was immediately greeted a jubilant May.

"Guess what?" she asked cheerfully.

"What?"

"No, you have to _guess_."

Drew glowered at her, but said, "In the past five minutes, we raised the millions of dollars we need to build six contest halls."

"No." May shook here head. "But close! We actually just hit $25,000. ... Okay, so it's actually a drop in the bucket, but still, that's a quarter of $100,000 in under a day! And just imagine what'll happen when DJ Mary talks about it."

"That's... awesome." Drew smiled crookedly. May's expression changed, realizing something was awry.

"Are you okay? You seem kind of upset," she said, her voice full of concern. "What did Solidad say?"

Drew breathed out, pressing a hand to his face.

"I just found out my father's dying."

_**May 29th, 2009. Early Evening. Pallet Town.**_

"So Ash told me you're a Pokémon Doctor," Clemont casually struck up a conversation as he added another touch of salt to the pasta noodles he was boiling. Brock was a short distance away, cutting some strawberries for the salad he was preparing.

"That's right," Brock said, nodding. "Well, actually, I'm just certified to be a Pokémon Doctor. I graduated at the end of April, and I'm still combing through the job market. Right now, I'm helping my family at the gym they run in Pewter City and volunteering at the Pokémon Center there."

"No shame in that." Clemont moved back to the pan of sauce simmering over the stove, stirring it. "I didn't know your family had a gym. I have my own gym back in Lumiose City."

"What do you specialize in?" Brock asked.

"Electric-types," Clemont answered. "I'm an electrical engineer, actually. I invent things on the side."

"Really?" Brock raised an eyebrow. He took the strawberry slices he cut and added them to the salad, tossing them up. "What have you invented?"

"Er... well, nothing marketable," Clemont sheepishly admitted. "Most of the stuff I make ends up breaking down or blowing up."

"I wouldn't have taken you for the mad scientist type," Brock chuckled. He inclined his head toward the boiling pot. "Looks like your pasta's ready."

"Hm?" Clemont glanced down and reached for the pasta spoon, dipping it into the water. The noodles, now limber, ran off the teeth. "I guess you're right!"

He reached into one of the lower cabinets and pulled out a colander. After turning off the stove, he moved the pot toward the sink and emptied into the colander, so the noodles could drain. Brock drizzled some dressing on the salad while Clemont dumped the pasta on a large serving platter and poured the sauce on top.

"Okay everyone, we've got dinner ready!" Brock announced as both he and Clemont left the kitchen with the dishes in hand. They laid them on the makeshift dining table their group had put together; Ash wasn't used to hosting so many people in his small home at once, and they had to make due.

"Awesome! Thank you, guys!" Ash jumped off the catch and found a seat at the table. His mouth watered upon seeing the entrée, and he inhaled its scent. "Man, looks so good. ... It'd be something else if you two got together with Cilan to cook something up."

"Who's Cilan, again?" Serena asked, sitting beside him. Misty took his other side.

"He's the husband of the Unova Champion," Ritchie explained. "Remember, she was in the hospital yesterday with everyone thinking she was poisoned?"

"The one who's pregnant?" Serena asked.

"That's her." Ritchie nodded.

"Man, I'm so stoked about that," Ash said, shoveling some pasta onto his plate before passing it along to the next person. "I've known those two for years, and for them to be having a baby is really weird, but also really cool. If only I could call and tell them-"

"-Ah, no," Gary quickly cut him off. "I went over this with you, Ash. You're not allowed to say anything about Iris being pregnant until they officially announce she is. I wasn't supposed to tell you guys anything, but I knew you were worried, which is why I did."

"Why is Leaf so bent on us not knowing, anyway?" Misty asked.

"It's not meant to be a slight against you guys; she just wants to be extra safe with the worries about Iris being poisoned leaking yesterday," Gary answered.

"Well, as soon as it is announced, I'm gonna call and tell them how excited I am for them," Ash said, spinning a glob of pasta on his spoon to eat.

"You mean babble for an hour, like how you did when they got engaged?" Misty teased.

"I was happy for them!" Ash defended.

"As you should be!" Bonnie said. "Weddings are happy! It's a good thing when people get married. That's why I've been trying to get Clemont married for years!"

Clemont turned bright red and sunk into his seat, moaning. Serena cast him an amused, though sympathetic look.

"The real treat will be when you and Misty get married," Gary said wryly, pointing his fork across the table at Ash. "For you, I mean. It'll be a pain for the rest of us, because then you'll never shut up."

Ash flushed pink, while Misty glared at the researcher, saying, "Ha ha, very funny, Gary."

She perked up when her cell phone suddenly rang, and she reached into her back pocket to turn it off—until she noticed who was calling.

"I'm really sorry," Misty apologized, standing. "I have to take this."

Bonnie watched her leave for another room and then looked at Ash, who had already shaken off his spell of embarrassment and was happily sharing some of his pasta with Pikachu. She nudged Gary in the side to get his attention.

"I can't tell yet: Are she and Ash dating?" she asked in a low voice, leaning toward him. Gary shrugged in response.

"Who knows?" he half-laughed.

* * *

"Mmm... I don't know," Misty said tepidly as she stood alone in the kitchen, leaning back against the counter. Leaf had spilled a lot of information to her, more than even Gary probably knew at that point, and it was a lot to take in: the car accident, the strange man from Team Plasma, and his apparent connection to Ash's family.

"_You don't know if he'll do it?_" Leaf asked.

"No, I don't know if _I_ want him to do it," Misty clarified. "He spent years struggling to accept that Silver wasn't coming back. I don't want this to pull out the stitches."

"_That's not your call to make. Push comes to shove, you're not his girlfriend, and even if you were, you still couldn't make his decisions for him._"

"I don't like you using people as pawns, no matter who they are," Misty retorted. "This isn't just because I love Ash and don't want him to get hurt. You brought me into the Elite Four for a reason."

"_I'm not using Ash,_" Leaf scoffed. "_Paul and I thought it might be a mutually beneficial thing, with this guy knowing Silver. We thought Ash might want to talk to him, too._"

"Absolutely," Misty agreed with an exasperated laugh. "Absolutely Ash will want to talk to him. That doesn't mean it's a good idea."

"_Then my point still stands: That's not your call to make._"

Misty's lips tightened, and she drummed her fingers against the counter. Leaf waited out Misty's silence patiently.

"There is a problem," Misty finally said, unhappily resigning to the fact that Leaf, in this case, was right.

"_That is?_"

"Ash's Kalosian friends are here," Misty explained. "He's not going to jump on a plane to Unova and leave them behind."

"_Fine, then they can come with him,_" Leaf said. "_We'll cover their expenses._"

"You're willing to do that?"

"_Misty, the G-Men is connected to the largest, most financially successful business in Napaj,_" Leaf answered. "_I think we can spare a few extra plane tickets and pay for some hotel rooms._"

"Fine. I'll tell him."

"_Thank you. Call me when he tells you he's coming._"

Misty hung up and let out a frustrated huff. She meandered back into the conjoined dining and living room, where the rest of the group was happily enjoying their dinner. She cleared her throat.

"Ash?" she inquired, getting his attention. He stopped eating, a noodle hanging outside his mouth. The others looked toward her, too. She continued, "That was Leaf on the phone. She, Paul, and Iris are asking you for a favor."

Ash chewed and swallowed.

"Sure," he said. "What is it?"

"Yesterday, a member of Team Plasma kind of... fell into the G-Men's lap," Misty said, being intentionally vague about the accident. Leaf had specified she didn't want people to know about that. "They think he might know something about the assassination attempt. The thing is, he's only agreed to talk if he gets the chance to meet you."

"Why?" Ash appeared confused.

"They don't know," Misty answered. "There is a catch, though."

"A catch?"

"Well, maybe catch isn't the right word," Misty admitted. "I guess it depends on how you look at it, whether it's a good or bad thing."

"Misty, what is it?" Ash encouraged, starting to look a little wary.

Misty sucked in her breath.

"He says he knows your brother."

_**May 29th, 2009. Evening. Opelucid City.**_

May clumsily grabbed for a hand towel after splashing her face with water during her nightly rituals. After a short delay, she finally managed to grab one off the rack and dry herself. An alert on her phone sounded and, after hanging up the towel again, she reached for the device. Her eyes scanned the screen before she headed back into her and Drew's bedroom.

Drew was laying on his side of the bed, a book in front of his nose. She couldn't see the title, but whatever it was, he was engrossed; his eyes didn't leave the page when she walked inside.

"Hey," she began gently, "what's on your mind?"

"I'm wondering whether Raskolnikov will get away with the murders," he replied, turning a page.

"I didn't mean your book, I meant-"

"-I know what you meant," Drew said shortly, finally looking at her. "I don't have a good answer for you. I don't know what to think."

"Well, it is a shock," May said, sliding onto their bed. "We had no idea the cancer had come back."

"He must have kept it hidden from the media," he mumbled. "He's good at hiding things."

"If you're this bitter, then you definitely shouldn't go," May said. "You don't owe him anything."

"I know. _Believe me_, I know," Drew said. "But... It's strange, aside from one ten-minute conversation that happened years ago, he and I haven't been in contact for more than a decade. And I've been happy; I've had you and Solidad, and you two are all I could possibly want or need. Hearing he's dying, though, is really unnerving."

"I think anyone would feel that way," May reassured him.

Drew set his book down on his stomach and leaned his head back, sighing.

"I don't want to leave the campaign behind," he groaned.

"So you _are_ thinking about going?" May asked. "Because, don't let the campaign be what's holding you back. I can take care of it, and everyone else will understand. Even Zoey and Kenny and the others who know that you and your aren't close with your dad will understand."

"I don't know whether you want me to do this or not," Drew grumbled.

"I want you to do what will be best for you," May clarified.

Drew's lip twitched.

"To answer your question: No, I don't want to go," he said. "But, there's a part of me that thinks if I don't, I'll end up regretting it, like I would wonder if I would have hated him less while he was doped up on morphine, or wish we had gotten closure."

"I think Solidad brings up a good point when she says you don't want this to bring back your insomnia," May said.

"I look at this way: I would rather deal with another year of insomnia than sixty second-guessing myself when it's too late," Drew responded. "Besides, I really don't think my insomnia will be a problem. I had problems sleeping because I was afraid—of my father, and of Team Rocket. I'm an adult now. I don't have any reason to be afraid of my father, because he has no legal power over me. He can't revoke my trainer's license now, which he could've done when I was 15, because I got it without his permission. And Team Rocket's not a problem anymore."

May carefully looked him over before averting her eyes and, with a small, strange smile, brushed a loose piece of hair behind her ear.

"It sounds like you've really thought this through." She paused and reached for her phone on the nightstand. "There's, um, a flight to La Rousse that leaves at 2 p.m. tomorrow."

"You looked up flights?" Drew raised an eyebrow.

"Drew, I think you actually do want to go, the way you're talking," May said tenderly. "I also saw your face after Solidad first called. You're very upset, but you don't want to admit you are, because you think it's wrong to feel that way. You don't have to justify yourself to me, though."

Drew hesitated and briefly looked away.

"If I go, no matter what happens—whether he dies before then or not—I'll be back by June 18th."

"I'll buy the ticket now," May half-laughed. "You can pack in the morning."

She looked down at her phone and pressed on the flight number to purchase the available ticket. Drew's gaze returned to her.

"May?" he inquired.

"Mhm?" Her eyes met his, and he reached for her arm so he could pull her into a kiss. It was longer than usual, an expression of the depth of his gratitude.

"Thanks for understanding," he said, "even when I don't."

* * *

Dawn let out a short, sharp gasp when she walked into her and Paul's apartment and found his Torterra unexpectedly laying in the middle of the room, taking up nearly half the area's space. Piplup squeaked its own name from having Dawn squeeze him too hard, and she breathed out and laughed at herself. She wasn't sure what she initially thought the creature in her living room was, but Torterra definitely wasn't as scary.

"Hey," she said, approaching Torterra and petting him on top of his head. "You kind of surprised me there."

Torterra sleepily opened his eyes and looked up at her, but he made no noise. He simply enjoyed her attention.

Dawn gave him one last friendly pat on the shell before letting Piplup out of her arms so they could converse. She then headed into the kitchen and found Paul there, making himself a bowl of cereal.

"Haven't eaten yet?" she asked, amused.

"No," he said, opening the carton of milk and pouring it. He didn't look at her when he asked, "How did you get home?"

"Kenny and Barry walked with me."

"Kenny and Barry?" His eyes moved toward her, and he looked strangely suspicious.

She raised her eyebrows, now sharing the same expression.

"Are you... suddenly jealous that I'm friends with other men?" she asked. "Kenny and Barry live a couple blocks further down than us, and they walk with me because I don't want to be dragged by my hair into a dark alley."

"Do you talk to them about us?" Paul ignored her question, presenting her with his own**—**which was when Dawn realized this conversation had nothing to do with jealousy.

"Sometimes, yes," she admitted tepidly.

"And to Zoey and May?"

"Yes."

"And obviously to Drew, too."

"Look, I get it, you're mad," Dawn sighed. "You were embarrassed by the comment Drew made. In fact, I get the sense from some of the things Leaf said this morning that she embarrassed you, too, and probably in front of other people. No one likes being embarrassed, and I'm sorry. It shouldn't have happened."

"Why are you talking to them about us?"

"Do you want my honest answer?" Dawn asked.

"Yes, I do."

"Because _you_ won't talk to me about us," Dawn replied firmly. "I went to Drew for advice. I didn't think he'd say anything and-"

"-You didn't think he'd say anything?" Paul cut her off. "That's the problem. When you say things, others will repeat them, and I don't want my personal life to be a segment on broadcast news."

"Do you think I want other people to know we haven't had sex for months?" Dawn snapped, and soon as the words left her mouth, she wished she could take them back. Paul stared at her, his expression unchanging, and his silence cutting. Dawn clasped her hands together and looked at the ground. When she spoke again, she spoke quietly.

"I don't think you're talking about that, though," she said. "I think you're talking about something else."

Paul's eyes narrowed.

"Paul, I need you to be upfront with me, please," Dawn continued, practically pleading. "I don't like guessing. I don't like guessing because I'm not always right."

"Drop it, Dawn," he warned, knowing what direction she was taking them.

"We need to talk about this," Dawn persisted. "You can't keep pretending something isn't wrong."

"Dawn." His voice went lower, more dangerous than before.

"This is what people in relationships do." Dawn was unwilling to relent. "They-"

"-Then maybe we shouldn't be in a relationship anymore," Paul spat, before she could go any further.

Dawn stopped with a disbelieving breath.

"... You want to break up?" she asked.

Disagreement rose in his throat, but he forced it back down and breathed out an entirely different word.

"Yes."

.

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	9. VIII: In Which Zoey Picks Up the Pieces

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Chapter VIII: In Which Zoey Picks Up the Pieces

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_**May 30th, 2009. Early Morning. Opelucid City.**_

The dim morning light of the 6 a.m. sun filtered through the floor-length windows of the CIU office, but Zoey still flicked on the light switch when she entered the room. She blinked away the spots in her eyes and ventured toward her desk, dropping off several items, though she kept her gym bag slung over her shoulder. She stopped and cast a strange look toward the lounge area, from where she had heard an odd, high-pitched snore.

Zoey rounded one of the sofas and was surprised to find Dawn asleep on it, her head laying on a plastic bag full of clothes. Piplup was in her arms, and he was the one snoring.

"Dawn?" Zoey inquired in disbelief, gently tapping her shoulder. Dawn, being a light sleeper, immediately woke up.

"Hey, Zoey," she said, sounding a little groggy.

"Did you sleep here?"

"Yeah..." Dawn sat up, rubbing one of her eyes. The motion woke up Piplup, and he made a few indignant noises. "Paul and I, um, had a fight."

"And he kicked you out?" Zoey now looked irked.

"No, no!" Dawn quickly said, waving her hands. "I left by myself. In fact, he doesn't know I'm here. He went to a hotel and left the apartment for me, but I felt guilty staying there, so I came here. He was the one who put down the two month's rent."

"This sounds a lot more serious than just a fight," Zoey said suspiciously.

"Well, actually, we broke up," Dawn finally admitted. She brought Piplup onto her lap, pulling him close to her. Piplup gave his trainer a sympathetic look.

"Broke up? What happened?"

"A lot of things." Dawn brushed her fingers through her messy hair. "What are you doing here so early, anyway?"

"I came to just drop off some things before I went to the gym," Zoey answered. She paused, giving Dawn a once-over. "You haven't showered, have you?"

"No," Dawn replied with a strange, sad kind of laugh. "I just brought something to wear for today. I know I'm going to have to go back and get my things. I didn't really think this through."

"Well..." Zoey paused, thinking. "Why don't you come to the gym with me? It's only two blocks away, and you can use the showers there and get changed. I also have some extra make-up that you can use."

"Zoey, that would be great," Dawn breathed out. "Thank you." She still looked and sounded exhausted. Zoey wondered if she had really ended up getting much sleep.

"And do you know what else?" Zoey continued. "We can go get breakfast afterward. If you want, I can call May and Drew and Kenny and Barry, and we can all talk about this."

"Um..." Dawn hesitated. "Sure, we all can go to breakfast. But I don't know if I want to talk about it."

"Okay." Zoey picked up Dawn's bag of clothes so she wouldn't have to put down Piplup and then helped her up, slinging an arm around her shoulders. "Come on, let's go."

* * *

Bonnie peered out the car window and scowled when she saw the dark, stony pyramid-like building to which they were pulling up. She shuddered at the Dragon heads guarding the entrance and, turning an eye toward Ash, asked, "_This_ is where your friends live?"

Ash laughed and said, "It is kinda scary from the outside, huh? This used to be the Opelucid Gym. Iris was a gym leader before she became Champion, and she battles using Dragon-types."

"It used to belong to a man named Drayden, before he passed the gym down to her," Gary added, his hands folded behind his head. "So you can credit the creepy architecture to him. Iris herself has more of a flower child kind of mystique."

"Iris is not a flower child," Misty spoke up, protesting. "Flower children are passive and airy—Iris has a bite as bad as her Dragons. The gym is definitely more Drayden's speed, though."

The driver, Agent Murray, parked the car and turned off the engine. Serena unbuckled her seat belt and, opening the door, slid outside the vehicle. She noticed a man waiting outside the gym, his mauve hair looking unkempt, and his eyes dull with exhaustion. Serena initially wondered if this was Cilan, but she shook away the thought. Ash had said Cilan was a Pokémon Connoisseur, a class that also existed in Kalos. She wasn't sure what the standard for connoisseurs were in Unova, but in Kalos, they always looked sharp. The man before her didn't fit the bill.

"Thank you, Cole," the man told Agent Murray as he approached. Ash's eyes lit up when he exited the car, and he threw an arm around the man's shoulder, which visibly annoyed him.

"Hey, guys!" Ash began, addressing Serena, Bonnie, and Clemont. "I'd like you to meet Paul Rebolledo, the Sinnoh Champion."

"Don't touch me," Paul grumbled.

"He and I were rivals way back in the day, when we both competed in the Sinnoh League," Ash continued, dropping his arm, though he otherwise appeared unfazed.

Clemont smiled and, adjusting his glasses, reached out to shake Paul's hand.

"Hi, I'm-" he began, but he was cut off.

"-I'm not going to remember any of your names in two minutes, so don't bother telling me," Paul said. Clemont appeared more surprised than offended as he withdrew his hand. Serena looked rather put off as she drew her arms around herself.

"_Paul,_" Misty chastised, but he turned away, indicating they should follow him.

"Don't mind him," Ritchie assured the Kalosian trio as they headed inside, after Paul. "He's always been a bit of a... grump."

"Yeah, looks like he's in one of his _moods_," Gary scoffed, rolling his eyes. Ash frowned, but he said nothing.

Paul pushed the elevator button across the field, and the group stepped in together.

"Leaf is working on booking you some hotel rooms," Paul informed them shortly, keep his back toward the group.

"You know, we can just stay in the Pokémon Center," Ash offered. "It's not a big deal."

"You're doing a favor to us. It would be unprofessional if we didn't provide accommodations," Paul dismissed. The elevator doors opened, and they found themselves in the living quarters of the gym. Paul moved forward, and the rest followed. Bonnie rubbed her chin as she went along, taking in her surroundings; there were a lot of plants and flowers everywhere, mismatching the foreboding aura surrounding the outside structure. Maybe Gary's 'flower child' comment wasn't as far off the mark as Misty said.

Paul stopped in the living room, finding Cilan alone, reading Samuel Oak's _The Symbiosis Between Pokémon and Humans_.

"Where's Leaf and Iris?" Paul asked bluntly.

"Leaf is making calls; Iris is tending to her health." Cilan closed his book and set his reading glasses on the table before he rose up, smiling at the group. "It's been too long already. How are all of you?"

"We're doing all right, Cilan," Misty answered. "I think you and Iris have had a more exciting week than we have, and that's saying a lot, considering Ash won all of his Elite Four matches."

Cilan laughed nervously and said, "I wouldn't go that far—but on that note, congratulations to you, Ash, and to Pikachu as well, for your victories. It's a pleasure I get to say this in person."

"Thanks!" Ash grinned, reaching up to pat the Pikachu on the head. The Electric-type hummed in contentment. Ash suddenly added, "Oh! I should introduce you. Cilan, these are my friends from Kalos—Serena, Clemont, and Bonnie." Ash gestured to each person as he spoke.

"Ah,_ je m'appelle Cilan._" Cilan appeared delighted as he approached Serena and shook her hand. "_Je suis très heureux de faire votre connaissance._"

"_Je... Je m'appelle Serena,_" Serena stammered, caught off guard. "I didn't know you spoke our language."

"I've studied to become more fluent over the years," Cilan confessed. "My wife is bilingual in a different language, and I'd like to teach her as she teaches me."

"Please excuse my husband." Iris suddenly appeared in a doorway on the other side of the room. "As you have probably guessed by now, he is a massive dork."

"Ah, so you must be Iris!" Bonnie said, happily bounding up to her. "Wow, your hair's so long and pretty! Ash _did_ say you have a lot of it."

Iris blinked, taken aback by the unexpected compliment. She pulled on a braid hanging off her shoulder and said, "W-Well, thank you! I-"

Before she could finish her sentence, she found herself being tackled with a hug by Ash, not unlike how May had done just the other day. This time, though, she didn't feel herself go spinning into a spell of dizziness.

"I'm so happy for you!" Ash exclaimed.

"For _what_?"

"For the baby, of course!" Ash said when he pulled away.

"Oh... that..."

"A baby?" Leaf inquired, sweeping onto the scene. "Now where in the world would you have heard about that, Ash Ketchum? We haven't released any statements to the media yet. ... Unless _someone_ told you something you weren't supposed to know yet." She looked pointedly at Gary, who grumbled under his breath in response.

"Mind yourself, Leaf. I just told them," Cilan interjected, deciding to save Gary some grief. Gary shot the connoisseur an appreciative look.

"Oh. Well, my apologies to Garebear, then." Leaf pecked him on the lips, and Gary let on a satisfied smile—until Bonnie snickered.

"_Garebear?_" she questioned.

"We know," Misty said with a laugh. "We think it's funny, too."

"Yeah, yeah," Gary mumbled. "Laugh it up. At least my name isn't a plant."

"Gary, I hope you realize you just insulted three people in this room," Iris pointed out.

"Good," Gary retorted.

"Plus yourself, 'cause isn't your last name Oak, as in like the tree?" Ash added.

"If you children are finished, N is at the hospital waiting for us," Paul growled, speaking up again.

"Geez, did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed?" Leaf huffed. "Point taken, though. Ash, if you're ready, we can take you to the hospital now."

"Uh... yeah!" Ash cast a quick glance behind him. "What about everyone else?"

"I don't have the rooms locked in yet, so they can either stay here or come sit in a stuffy hospital waiting room," Leaf said. "They'll only allow three people max in the patient's room."

"You've really thought this out, haven't you?" Paul mumbled.

"Arceus, Paul, what's your damage this morning?" Leaf snapped at him. "You know what, _you_ can stay here. I don't want to be anywhere around you if you're going to be this way. Misty can come instead."

"Fine by me," Paul replied, looking away.

"Fine by me, too," Misty said. "I wanted to come anyway."

"Then we're off. Come on, Ash." Leaf turned to leave, but Ash hesitated, looking back at the Kalosian trio.

"Don't worry, Ash," Cilan stepped in, sensing his unease in leaving behind his friends in an unfamiliar place. "Iris and I will keep them good company."

"I _need_ company," Iris added.

"I'll stay, too," Gary reassured. "And so will Ritchie, right?"

"Uh, yeah!" Ritchie nodded. "For a little bit."

Serena clasped her hands together and discreetly cast a glance at Cilan before looking back at Ash and Misty. Her lips twitched into a smile when she realized there was an opportunity at her feet.

"It _is_ okay, Ash," she said. "We'll be... just fine."

* * *

"Are you folks ready to order?" the waitress asked heartily as she swept by their table for the third time. All, with the exception of Dawn, looked up from their menus.

"We're still waiting on a couple people, but thank you," Zoey politely dismissed her, and the waitress nodded before leaving again. Kenny looked back at Dawn, who's head was rested miserably on her hand as she turned a page in her menu, though her eyes didn't read a word.

"Gee, Dawn, I wish there was something I could say..." Kenny sighed.

"Yeah," Barry added, agreeing. "What a jerk. I'll give him a fine!"

"That's not necessary, Barry." Dawn shook her head. "You don't even know what happened."

"What _did_ happen?" Zoey pressed. Dawn had still yet to open up about the break-up and the preceding fight, so there wasn't much Zoey could say when she called up the others and told them they were going out. At least, Kenny had recommended the diner. He and Barry had apparently visited the place several times since the beginning of the CIU's tenure in Opelucid.

Before Dawn could answer, the bell attached to the front door rang as it opened and in came May and Drew. They immediately found their companions and slid into the booth with them.

"Sorry we're late!" May quickly apologized. "Is it true, though? You and Paul broke up?"

Dawn nodded but said nothing else, and May's face fell, the heartbreak evident in her expression.

"_Why?_" Drew asked.

"It's complicated," Dawn tried to write it off, picking up her menu again.

"Dawn, please talk to us," Kenny pleaded. Dawn bit her lip and hesitantly looked up at her friends. They all looked concerned, and Dawn could understand why. The situation seemed worse with her trying to keep what happened hidden, especially since they could tell she was upset, despite her efforts to keep herself together. At least she hadn't cried yet.

"Here's... the thing..." Dawn began tepidly. "You guys know that Paul's a, well, very private person, right?"

"I knew it," Drew interjected with a sigh, brushing his fingers through his hair. "This is about the 'paying attention to your girlfriend' comment I made Thursday, isn't it?"

Dawn winced, and May glared at him, saying, "Let her finish, Drew."

"No, he's—I mean," Dawn stumbled over her own words; she didn't want to say Drew was 'right' and place blame on him. "It's not your fault, Drew."

"Dawn, I'm so sorry," Drew apologized. "I'll cancel my flight this afternoon, and I'll talk to Paul myself. I'll-"

"-Cancel your flight?" Barry blinked.

"So you _are_ going to La Rousse after all?" Kenny asked.

"Yes, but-"

"-What about the campaign?" Barry asked.

"Can we stop interrupting each other for two seconds?" Zoey growled. "We'll talk about Drew leaving later. Right now, we're talking about Dawn."

Kenny and Barry both uttered an abashed "sorry," and Zoey nodded toward Dawn, inviting her to continue speaking. Still, Dawn stayed quiet for a moment longer, considering what she should say.

"I, um..." Dawn laid her hands in her lap, sighing. "Okay, yes. Part of the fight was about me talking to you guys about... issues in Paul's and my relationship."

"The lack of sex," Zoey said more bluntly.

"Not so loud," Dawn coughed, glaring. "It's not exactly that, though. That's a symptom, I think. A big problem, I guess, is that he's worried something will leak, and the public will know about his private life. I know that's something we all think about with what happened to Barry."

A stiff silence followed, and Barry's head sunk into his shoulders. Kenny gave him a couple pats on the back.

"And then, with the whole Iris thing, with it somehow getting out that we thought she might have been poisoned..." Dawn continued, trailing off. "I worry about it, too."

Zoey frowned.

"There's something you said earlier that I want to go back to," she said. "A symptom?"

"Mm?" Dawn intoned.

"A symptom," Zoey repeated with emphasis. "A symptom of what?"

Dawn felt her mouth run dry, seeing all the curious gazes on her. She swallowed, regathering herself.

"When... When Paul became the Champion, that's when things started to go downhill," she said. "It's a stressful job, you know?" Dawn knew it didn't really answer Zoey's question, but she hoped it was enough for them to overlook it.

"He can't blame you for that, though," May said.

"He could, actually," Dawn said with a bitter laugh. "Because I convinced him to do it."

_**July 6th, 2003. Morning. Lake Valor.**_

"Togekiss, Aura Sphere!"

"Dodge Absol, and then use Razor Wind!"

Absol managed to jump out of the way as Togekiss's Aura Sphere blasted the ground, and the Dark-type's horn glowed before it whipped out its attack. Togekiss was hit squarely in the chest, and he fell from the sky to an ugly crash landing.

"Togekiss, are you all right?" Dawn called out in concern, but her Pokémon moaned in response and made no motion to get up.

"Aw man, this doesn't look too good..." Barry frowned, rubbing the back of his head.

"Barry, you're the ref," Zoey reminded him. "Call the match."

"Oh, right! Okay, Togekiss is unable to battle, so the winner is Drew and his Absol!" Barry declared.

Absol shared a smirk as proud as his trainer's, and Dawn sunk to her knees at Togekiss's side, pulling out her Pokéball.

"Thank you, Togekiss. Return," she said before rising up to meet Drew. "That was a great battle. Your Absol is really something else."

"I'll say."

Dawn breath caught at the familiar voice, and she turned to see Paul approaching, his hands in his pockets. Drew, May, and Barry also appeared surprised by his arrival; Kenny and Zoey looked less than thrilled.

"Paul," Dawn laughed out of bewilderment. Her embrace caught him off guard, and he stumbled back, looking unsure of what he should do. He hesitantly raised a hand, perhaps to reciprocate, but she pulled back before he could. "What are you doing here? I thought you were in Kanto."

"I... was..." Paul replied. "I came back to Sinnoh for some personal business, and when I heard the Sinnoh Grand Festival was starting soon, I decided to come by." He stepped back, further separating himself from Dawn. He then looked toward the others and asked, "I'm assuming you're all participating, too?"

"May and I, like you, are actually just visiting," Drew clarified. "We're competing in the Johto contest circuit again."

"Except now we actually plan to participate in the Grand Festival this time," May added with a nervous laugh.

"I'm here for moral support!" Barry raised his hand.

"I figured that would be the case for you," Paul said, and Barry scowled.

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" Barry demanded.

"It means nothing." Paul shook his head. "I suppose I'm here for the same reason."

Barry perked up, grinning, thinking he meant he was also there to support their friends in the festival. Yet, the somber tone of his voice caused Dawn to think differently, and she inclined her head, turning his words over in her mind.

* * *

"So apparently..." Drew began distractedly, his eyes scanning the screen of his phone, "... this is the first year the APC will be providing complimentary condoms in the Grand Festival dorm rooms, as part of an initiative to help lower Napaj's insanely high teen pregnancy rate."

It was later in the evening, and the group had gathered in Dawn's dorm room to spend time together and unwind after a long day of training (or helping train) for the Grand Festival. A pool of snacks sat at the center of the trainers, though Paul hadn't touched a single morsel of food. In fact, he was spatially an outlier among them, and he had failed to participate in most of the conversation. Dawn would cast him concerned glances every so often, wondering why he was so quiet. A year ago, this type of withdrawal was normal for him; now, being closer with the trainers, she would have expected he would _at least_ interject a comment every now and then.

"Where'd you hear that?" Barry asked.

"I'm reading an article about it right now," Drew answered, turning his phone toward the others.

"We have a high teen pregnancy rate?" May blinked.

"One of the highest in the world," Drew replied. "Just another bullet point to add to the laundry list of problems the G-Men will never solve."

Paul's lip twitched, and he turned his head away. Dawn glanced at him again, and Piplup, who was sitting on her lap, looked up at his trainer with an annoyed expression.

"I believe it." Kenny nodded. "My mom was... 17 when she got pregnant? She and my dad got married, though they probably shouldn't have. Come to think of it, didn't your mom have you pretty young, too, Dawn?"

"Uh, yeah!" Dawn snapped her head back toward the group. "She was 19. So was Ash's mom, I think."

"Weird..." May furrowed her eyebrows. "I didn't know this was a thing."

"Not surprising, considering the orange creamsicle of a home life you've had," Zoey laughed.

"Well, now I want an orange creamsicle..." May whined.

"So, were your parents also teenagers when they had you, Zoey?" Drew asked, brushing over his girlfriend's pouting for want of dessert.

"Ha, no," Zoey answered. "My parents are very conservative, very proper people. I came well after they were married."

Dawn looked toward Paul once more, but this time, she addressed him when she spoke: "What about you, Paul?"

Paul's eyes met hers, and everyone else looked his way, too, as if they had only just remembered he was there.

"My family had a lot of problems, but teen pregnancy wasn't one of them," Paul said shortly. A brief silence followed, interrupted only by an alarm going off on Zoey's phone. She reached into her back pocket and plucked the device out.

"It's 10 p.m.," she informed her companions. "I don't know about all of you, but I have training to do in the morning—so I'm going to head back to my room."

"Yeah, same," Kenny said, standing up alongside Barry.

"We should probably head back to the center, too," May admitted.

"All right." Dawn smiled. "Thanks for coming over. I'll see you all in the morning."

After the exchange of several more goodbyes, Dawn's room was soon emptied of her visitors—all with the exception of Paul, who hadn't said anything more. Dawn didn't break the silence as she awkwardly began to gather up the food leftovers and store them away for later. Piplup jumped onto the bed and folded his arms, keeping a wary eye on the remaining trainer.

Finally, Paul rose to his feet, but Dawn jerked her head toward him and said, "You don't have to leave yet, you know."

Paul stared at her strangely.

"I-I mean," Dawn stammered, "just because the others left doesn't mean you have to, if you don't want to."

"I have to set up camp," Paul said plainly.

Dawn frowned.

"You didn't get a room at the center?" she asked.

"It was full."

"Oh... well, then you should definitely stay! You can spend the night here. I don't mind." Dawn quickly amended, "I mean, only if you don't mind, either. The sofa pulls out into a bed." Dawn suddenly laughed at herself, saying, "Sorry. I'm making this a lot more uncomfortable than it should be."

"_Why_ are you so jumpy tonight?" Paul half-grumbled.

"I don't know," Dawn said, falling back onto the edge of her bed, beside Piplup. She smiled crookedly at him, adding, "Because I like you, I guess? We agreed at the wedding that we would give dating a shot, and we did for a little bit. Then you left for Kanto."

"Are you mad at me?" Paul craned an eyebrow.

"No, no," Dawn corrected. "I understand. You and I do different things and go different places, and that's not bad. I'm just..." Dawn shook her head. "I was pleasantly surprised when you showed up today."

Paul said nothing in response. Dawn pushed a loose piece of hair out of her face and carefully asked, "... What business did you come back to Sinnoh for?"'

He pressed his lips together for a moment, hesitating.

"Did you hear about what happened to Bertha?" he finally said.

"Oh, yeah... She died just last week, didn't she?"

Paul nodded, adding, "That's why I came."

"Is she a family friend?" Dawn asked.

"No. Cynthia wanted to talk to me about it."

"_Cynthia?_" Dawn blinked, bewildered. They all knew Cynthia thanks to their mix-up with the G-Men and Team Rocket last year, and she had always been personable, but it was still strange to hear that the Sinnoh Champion had reached out to him. "Why?"

Paul seemed hesitant again.

"There's another reason I came to Lake Valor," he said, "other than just so I could see you and the others compete."

Dawn looked wary.

"That is... ?"

"I wanted to talk to you." Paul mumbled the words, as though he didn't want to admit it. "I wanted to tell you something."

Hearing this surprised Dawn more than hearing Cynthia had spoken with Paul. She couldn't recall a time Paul had _specifically_ wanted to share something with her; probably because it hadn't happened before.

"Well, I'm listening," Dawn gently prodded him.

Paul cleared his throat.

"Do you remember what Silver said?" he began. "Do you remember him saying that Champions are chosen?"

Dawn's eyes widened and she felt her chest tighten as several of the puzzle pieces began to put themselves together in her mind—Paul's behavior, Cynthia speaking to him, even Leaf and Gary's insinuations the night before the interview that aired in March. The sense of understanding overwhelmed her, especially when she felt it should have been so _obvious_. Yet, a dozen other questions and mysteries sprung up in her mind.

"I do," was all she could say, knowing where the conversation was now headed.

"He wasn't wrong," Paul said. "Cynthia had a plan, one that I've know about for about a year now. She wanted Bertha to retire after I turned 18, so I could take her spot. And then, after several more years, Cynthia would retire, and I would become Champion. With Bertha dead, though... Cynthia said I'm too young to be in the Elite Four now, so she has to put someone else in the spot she wanted to be mine. She's going to announce Volkner as a replacement in about a week."

Dawn said nothing for a moment, processing.

"So... where does that leave you?" she carefully asked.

"Cynthia now wants me to come into the Championship the same way she did," Paul explained. "When I'm ready, I'll challenge her to an unofficial battle, and I'll win. She'll step down, and I'll become Champion."

"That's... That's good, then!" Dawn smiled nervously. "That way, you'll still be Champion. That's what you've always wanted." When Dawn saw his expression though, she second-guessed herself, adding, "... Isn't it?"

Paul's lips tightened.

"I _did_ want to be Champion," he admitted. "But I think you and I both know that there's a lot more to being the Champion than we once thought."

"Being the leader of the G-Men," Dawn said quietly.

"I'll get to be the one who has to worry about our rate of teenage pregnancy," Paul bitterly affirmed, "and about kids who didn't have a Reggie."

"Have a Reggie? What do you mean?"

"Mm," Paul intoned. "Right. I haven't told you this story, have I?"

"What story?"

"Mine."

Dawn folded her hands in her lap, watching him carefully. He hadn't. She had heard bits and pieces from rare comments he made about his family—not unlike the one he said tonight—but he had never sat down and explained the relationship between him, Reggie, Brandon, and his late mother, and she didn't push him to. She was willing to listen, though.

Dawn scooted toward the wall, trying to leave an open space for Paul to sit beside her. Piplup, however, gave her a disbelieving look, unwilling to do the same. Dawn's eyes warned him, and Piplup grumbled to himself before he crawled back to sit on Dawn's pillow. Paul quirked an eyebrow at the Water-type and then at Dawn.

"Sorry," Dawn quickly apologized. "Piplup's just protective of me, that's all."

Paul averted his gaze, looking back at the door. Dawn could tell he was having second thoughts about telling her this, but she supposed he felt he has was in too deep at that point.

"My mother killed herself when I was 8," he began, though he didn't sit. "Brandon—my father—sent Reggie and I away after that, for reasons that can be justified, but are too complicated to explain now. But Reggie was 15, and he couldn't legally apply for a job without a parent's permission, not until he was 18. He stopped competing and started his own breeding business, which he'd always wanted to do, but it's not so easy when you're doing it to take care of your little brother. He didn't stop training, though, and he went back to challenge the Battle Frontier after I was 10 and had my trainer's license. When he lost to Brandon, he quit training entirely and stuck with breeding."

Dawn listened attentively, and she took what he said in stride. Still, there was a flash of compassion in her eyes when he mentioned his mother. She knew she was dead; she didn't know it was a suicide. Yet, another thought soon occurred to her.

"How did you get your license?" Dawn asked. "Reggie couldn't have been your legal guardian and signed off on a license when you turned 10. ... He would've still been 17."

"The same way other abandoned 10-year-olds get their license," Paul mumbled, sliding his hands into his pockets. "There are loopholes. As if the league cares whether you have your license legally or not. Money talks. More trainers means more potential for financial gain, no matter what class you fall into. It's all connected to the league." He hesitated before adding, "There is a less cynical way of looking at it, I suppose. A trainer's license gets you free room and board at Pokémon Centers, and Nurse Joy won't let anyone starve. ... It's not a solution, but it's something."

Dawn's eyes fell.

"I think I understand what you're getting at," she said. "You mean to say... you don't know what the solution is?"

"I don't," Paul confirmed.

"But you think you have to, if you're going to be Champion?"

Paul didn't answer the question, but his silence spoke for him.

"Why are you telling me this?" Dawn went on.

"I'm not supposed to. And I wasn't going to," Paul said plainly. "Then I found out Leaf had told Gary, and that Iris had told Cilan."

"Why... why would they know?" Dawn's face twisted with confusion.

"Because Leaf and Iris are lined up to become Champions, too," Paul answered, and Dawn's eyes widened. "Now do you see why I wasn't supposed to say anything? Gary was right. We're still embroiled in a conspiracy."

"Yeah, but..." Dawn trailed off. "... Maybe this one isn't so bad."

Paul gave her an odd look, and Dawn continued, "No, hear me out! I mean, I'm just spouting off what's coming to my mind—I haven't had a lot of time to think this through—but this... actually sounds really smart for Cynthia and the other Champions, to leave their seats to you three."

"What makes you say that?"

"You're worried that you don't know what you're gonna do about, you know, these big problems in Napaj like teen pregnancy and child abandonment, right?" Dawn asked. "Probably, Leaf and Iris don't have the answers either. But you have each other, and you have us. You guys are friends; we're friends. Plus, who better to solve these issues than people who've been affected by them personally? No one would know better than you, as opposed to someone like May, who didn't have to take advantage of a loophole."

Paul stared.

"... Sorry, I'm not being helpful, am I?" Dawn laughed. "I guess I'm not thinking about it from your perspective. It's... a lot. You wanted to be Champion because it's supposed to be an honor, an achievement. Not this."

Paul pressed his lips into a hard line.

"Exactly," he said.

Dawn nodded understandingly and said, "Then tell Cynthia no. Tell her she'll have to find someone else. ... But only if you genuinely don't want to do it, not because you don't think you could. I think you could."

"You think I could?" Paul asked dryly.

"Well, sure."

"Why?"

Dawn thought over her answer for a moment.

"In those four months," she began slowly, "when we were looking for Mewtwo and Moltres... I saw a side to you that I didn't know existed when we first met." Paul eyed her warily, and Dawn chuckled before saying, "You're a _leader_. There are times we wouldn't have pulled through without you."

Paul's expression didn't change, and Dawn sighed. She felt like she couldn't say anything right.

"Anyway..." She changed the subject. "Thanks for talking to me about all this. I wouldn't have expected you to tell me any of this, and I'm glad to know you trust me enough to do so. I get that this is really personal to you."

Paul furrowed his eyebrows.

"_You're_ thanking _me_?" he said.

Dawn drew back slightly.

"Well..." The rest of her sentence was caught in her mouth, however, when Paul unexpectedly leaned down and kiss her. The gesture threw off Dawn—why was he kissing her now?—but before she became lost in the haze of emotions rising in her chest, she realized that maybe she _had_ been saying the right things. After overcoming the initial shock, her hand raised itself to the nape of his neck

"... You think I could do it?" Paul repeated the question when he pulled away, the words falling hot across her cheek.

"I really do," Dawn breathed, nodding. She kissed him again, but this time, Piplup made a noise of disapproval, and the couple hastily drew away from each other. Paul shot Piplup a death glare, and Dawn's bottom lip quivered.

"Piplup..." Dawn said it quietly, as more of a plea than a warning. Piplup huffed, but he climbed onto her nightstand, where his Pokéball sat, and tapped the button with his beat, enlarging it. He let himself inside and left the couple audienceless.

_**May 30th, 2009. Opelucid City. Late Morning.**_

"All right, here's his room," Leaf said as she stopped in front of the door labeled '306' with Ash and Misty and tow. Ash stared at the number with an indiscernible expression, while Misty and Pikachu exchanged concerned glances.

"Just a few things before we head inside," Leaf continued, turning toward her companions. "Rather, some disclaimers. There is a very real possibility this man has a TBI judging by some of the ridiculous things he's told Paul and I. But since we couldn't get Barret Dunstan to talk, this 'N' is currently our best shot for learning anything about Team Plasma. Still, we know we have to take what he says with a grain of salt. I suggest you do the same with whatever he says about Silver."

"Okay," Ash said calmly, nodding.

"Also," Leaf began, reaching in her pocket and pulling out some kind of device, "just a heads up, I'll be recording the conversation."

"That's not sketchy at all," Misty remarked warily.

"You know, I should've just left you at the gym," Leaf grumbled. She promptly turned and pushed the door open.

"Good morning, N," she greeted as she walked inside. His head snapped up at the sound of her voice.

"Hello again, Ms. Greene," N said tacitly.

"I brought you someone." When Leaf stepped aside and revealed Ash standing behind her, N's eyes lit up, like a child seeing a Christmas tree for the first time.

"Oh, good! You brought him!" N sounded as elated as he looked.

"Er... hi." Ash smiled crookedly. He wasn't sure what to make of a stranger being so excited to meet him. That type of behavior had died down years earlier, when the amazement of the fourteen returning alive began to fade from the public's memory.

"I'm so pleased to meet you." N then beamed at Pikachu. "And this must be the Pikachu I've heard about? The one whom never stays in his ball?"

"Uh, yeah!" Ash smiled, petting Pikachu behind the ear. "This is him. Where did you hear about him?"

"From your brother, of course," N answered.

Ash's lips tightened.

"I-I see," he said. Misty bit her tongue and looked away.

In the brief silence, N took the opportunity to extend his unbroken arm out to Pikachu, asking, "May I?"

Ash straightened up in surprise and then looked toward Pikachu, who appeared unsure. Ash nodded toward his partner reassuringly, and Pikachu hesitantly jumped onto N's arm, climbing up to his shoulder. N's smile widened as he lifted his hand to scratch Pikachu beneath the chin, which seemed to put the Electric-type more at ease.

After a few moments, N remarked, "I can tell you and Pikachu have a very special bond."

"You can?" Ash asked.

"Of course," N said, dropping his arm. "I can talk to Pokémon."

Ash blinked, but grinned, saying, "Oh, hey, that's pretty cool!"

Misty and Leaf didn't look as impressed. Misty leaned toward Leaf and asked in a low voice, "Is this what you meant by the TBI?"

"This is _exactly_ what I meant," Leaf answered thickly.

N eventually allowed Pikachu to leave his shoulder and return to his trainer. As soon Pikachu was safely back with Ash, the Pallet trainer asked, "So, N, right?" When N nodded, Ash continued, "Leaf told me you wanted to see me. Is there anything you want me to tell me about?"

"Hmm..." N hummed, thinking. "A difficult question. There is so much I'd like to know. ... Would you mind if you started from the beginning?"

"The beginning? The beginning of what?" Ash asked, confused.

"You journey as Pokemon trainer," N answered. "I want to know... everything!" He let out a strange laugh, and Ash quickly glanced back at Leaf and Misty before looking at N again.

"Well... sure!" Ash pulled one of the chairs near the window up to the bed and sat down.

Leaf discreetly reached into her pocket and turned her recorder on.

* * *

Trip's head snapped up when there was a knock at his apartment door, traces of confusion evident in his expression. He wasn't expecting company that day. In fact, he rarely had company at all. He was the one to visit Iris and Cilan, not the other way around. Nevertheless, he minimized the online news article he was reading and rose up to answer the door.

The identity of his visitor surprised him, to say the least.

"Ritchie?" Trip blinked.

"Hey," Ritchie greeted with a wave and smile.

"What are you doing here?" Trip opened the door further, inviting him inside.

"Leaf didn't say?" Ritchie asked, facing his host.

"I haven't seen Leaf since yesterday morning," Trip answered.

"Oh. Well, long story short, Leaf and Paul have been talking to a Team Plasma member who's in the hospital for some reason, and he wanted to exchange information about Team Plasma for the chance to meet Ash," Ritchie explained. "Ash wasn't going to leave his Kalosian friends behind in Kanto, though, so Leaf paid their way. Misty came to make sure Leaf doesn't use Ash; Gary came because he misses Leaf; I came because it's a chance for the entire group to be together again."

"In the hospital for some reason?" Trip repeated dryly.

"Leaf didn't tell us what happened there."

"Funny thing about that..."

"About what?" Ritchie perked up.

"Never mind." Trip shook his head and sighed. "How long are you here for?"

"I think..." Ritchie pressed a finger to his temple. "... Paul mentioned that the Plasma man cracked his skull and might have a TBI, so the doctor said he wanted to watch him for ten days. I can imagine Leaf will want to get as much as she can out of him, so we'll be sticking around for as long as he's bedbound."

"Ten days?" Trip raised a doubtful eyebrow.

"It's apparently typical for these kind of injuries. Ash was a special case," Ritchie half-laughed. "But I guess, technically, he's already been in the hospital for two days, so we'll be here for eight."

"Where are you staying?" Trip asked.

"Leaf and Paul are still working out a hotel," Ritchie answered.

"You can stay here if you want," Trip offered.

"I wouldn't want to impose." Ritchie paused before asking, "So, what have you been up to? I'm sure trying to manage Iris's image has been a lot of fun."

"It's more frustrating than anything," Trip admitted, falling back into the seat in front of his computer. "I can read all I want, but there's not much I can do with Iris not leaving the gym."

"I'm assuming you mean all the speculation about Iris being poisoned," Ritchie said.

"Surprisingly, that doesn't interest me as much." Trip shrugged. "It's bad, and the rumors have festered, but it's out of my control. Leaf's overseeing the PR associated with Iris's hospital trip, and it's supposed to get cleared up today."

"So what is interesting, then?" Ritchie pulled up a chair.

Trip turned to his computer, pulling up the screen he had minimized earlier.

"Did you hear about the incident with the Minccino?" he asked.

"I... think so," Ritchie said. "Remind me."

"Not long ago, a Minccino attacked its own trainer outside Nimbasa, causing facial disfigurement," Trip explained. "It was a big story when it first happened; it got national coverage and everything. News outlets are still following up on it, but it's not receiving the same amount of attention. Audiences have already been desensitized to the shock factor of a Pokémon brutally attacking its own trainer."

"Wait, so this has happened again?" Ritchie asked.

"Multiple times already. The most recent being today."

"I didn't hear anything about it," Ritchie admitted.

"That doesn't surprise me," Trip mumbled. "The second and third were mostly ignored because Ash's matches took precedence in the news cycle. And now, I can almost guarantee no one will care about the Glaceon that went after its trainer this morning, because they will be more interested that Iris is pregnant."

"That's..."

"Backwards?" Trip finished for him. "News media is a business like everything else. It has to cater to the consumer. And while people may say they like carrots, all they eat is candy."

* * *

"... So in the end, after all the treasures were collected, Melody played Lugia's song, and Moltres, Zapdos, and Articuno stopped fighting," Ash recalled with an ease that wasn't present an hour earlier. "The storms stopped, and everything, even Lugia, was okay again!"

N was leaning toward Ash, enthralled with his story. He had listened attentively the entire time, hanging onto every word and stopping Ash only every once in a while to interject a comment or question. Misty and Leaf were now sitting, too, though Leaf appeared bored by the direction of the conversation. Misty didn't seem to mind.

"Amazing," N breathed. "Now, this is the same Moltres whom you saved years later?"

"Yup." Ash nodded.

The four perked up when there was a knock at the door, and a nurse slid inside.

"My apologies for interrupting," she said kindly, "but I'm going to have to ask all visitors here to leave, as I need to run some tests on Mr. Gropius."

"But-" Leaf began, flabbergasted.

"-We understand." Misty cut her off, standing up. "Thank you."

Leaf shot her a glare. Still, N appeared the most disappointed by this development as he sunk back into his pillow. Ash did a double-take between him and Leaf and then cleared his throat.

"You know, uh... I can come back tomorrow," he assured N.

"You can?" N looked hopeful.

"Yeah, it's not a problem," Ash said. "I think I was gonna be here for a little while, anyway."

"Will you continue your story?" N asked.

"Sure." Ash nodded.

"Oh, thank you!" N sounded relieved. "I don't feel so sad anymore. I eagerly await your return; it gets lonely being here in this room. Please be sure to bring back your Pikachu."

"I will," Ash affirmed. "See ya."

"Goodbye," N said as the nurse came to his side, and Ash and his companions ushered themselves out. When Leaf shut the door, she leaned back against it and groaned.

"I'm sorry, Leaf," Ash apologized. "That didn't help you at all, did it?"

"It's okay, Ash," Leaf sighed, straightening. "We have plenty of time. I'm just going to have to be... patient."

"Anything I can do for you?" Ash asked.

"Nope. Go sight-see with your friends, grab some lunch—whatever you'd like," Leaf answered. "Agent Murray will take us back to the gym. I need to get to work on releasing the statement that Iris is pregnant."

"Actually..." Ash began tentatively.

"Actually... ?" Leaf prompted.

"Could we stop by the CIU office, if it's nearby?" Ash asked. "I'd like to see the others, try to make some dinner plans or something, so they can properly be introduced to Serena, Clemont, and Bonnie, you know?"

"Ah..." Leaf hesitated. "Yeah. That's fine."

"Great!" Ash grinned. "Thanks!"

He started toward the elevator, and Leaf frowned, brushing her fingers through her hair. She noticed Misty was watching her.

"You must be happy," Leaf grumbled.

"You seem to be under the impression I want you to fail," Misty said, moving forward, after Ash. When Leaf followed, Misty added, "Which isn't true. Iris is my friend, too. I'd like to get this Plasma business sorted out as much as the next person. I just don't want Ash to get hurt because of it."

"As you might have noticed, Ash _wasn't_ hurt today," Leaf pointed out. "He got to talk about himself for more than an hour, which is probably his second-favorite thing to do. N didn't even say much about Silver, and Ash didn't ask."

"I know," Misty said as they caught up with Ash. "_That_ I'm happy about."

* * *

"So tell us about yourselves," Cilan began kindly as he poured one last cup of tea for himself, having already graciously made sure his guests were accommodated for.

"Um..." Serena clutched her teacup nervously. "Well, what do you want to know?"

"Are you in school? Working?" Cilan specified.

"School," Serena answered shortly. "I just finished my sophomore year at a small college in my hometown."

"Ah," Cilan said before turning an eye to the younger Bonnie. "Are you a college student, too, Bonnie?"

"Nope!" Bonnie smiled, shaking her head. "I'm 17. College is still a year away. I mostly help my brother at the gym."

"That's right," Iris interjected suddenly, looking toward Clemont. "I forgot you were a gym leader."

"Uh, yeah! Electric-types," Clemont replied.

"How does the league treat you down there?" Gary spoke up, too.

"All right, I suppose," Clemont said, taking a sip of his tea. "I've never had any problems with them. We do have to get evaluated every so often, though."

"The same happens here," Cilan said. "Iris and I used to be gym leaders, too, before we got married. Iris never had a problem with her evaluations, but it could get a little scary for my brothers and I. Hence, why she's the Champion, and I'm now teaching."

"You have brothers, too?" Bonnie asked, delighted.

"Two triplet brothers, in fact," Cilan laughed. "They live in Striaton City, and they still run the family restaurant and gym."

Serena lowered her head, no longer listening. Her nails drummed against the delicate porcelain of her teacup, thinking. She had yet to taste of the drink their host had prepared; she was too nervous to do so. A question had been weighing on her for a while, but she didn't know how to bring it up, or even if it was appropriate to bring it up.

"Cilan," she began quietly, carefully, "would you mind if I asked you an unrelated question?"

Cilan turned his head back toward, confusion evident in his features, but he nodded. The others also seemed bemused by the interruption.

"Certainly," he said.

"Can you..." Serena hesitated. "... tell me about Ash's brother?"

Silence followed. Clemont and Bonnie both looked at their friend with wide eyes, surprised she had brought it up.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that to sound abrupt or rude," Serena continued apologetically, fearing she had gone too far. "It's just... I _never_ knew Ash had a brother."

"Funnily enough, neither did Ash for a long time," Gary mumbled under his breath.

"It's all right, Serena," Iris assured her. "I guess I'm more surprised Ash never mentioned him."

"I tried to ask about it yesterday, but Misty kind of warded us off the topic," Serena confessed. "With them gone, I thought..."

"It's a bit of a sensitive topic on a lot of fronts," Cilan said. "Misty merely cares about Ash's wellbeing."

"I'm going to take a guess and say his brother has _something_ to do with what happened seven years ago?" Serena asked.

"You guessed correctly," Cilan replied. "How much do the three of you know about that?"

"Not much at all, actually," Clemont admitted. "Different countries, you know? Of course, we heard about it when it happened, and we saw that big interview a year after you guys returned. ... When we first met Ash**—**or, really, when we figured out who he was—Ash told us that he didn't want to be treated any differently than any other person. He was upfront with us: He came to Kalos to get away from all that. So he didn't talk about it, and we didn't push it. And it was fine that way, great even, because I can honestly say traveling with Ash was one of the best experiences of my life."

"Pretty sure there's a club for that," Gary said with a wry smile. "But, hang on, you only know as much as that interview told you?"

"Yup!" Bonnie nodded.

"Gee, then you're missing a lot," Gary chuckled.

"A lot?" Serena inquired, looking put off.

"That interview might have been billed as full disclosure, but it definitely wasn't," Gary said.

"That's for another time," Cilan dismissed, which drew some disappointment across Serena's expression. "You want to know about Silver, right?"

"Is that his name?" Serena asked.

"That's what he told us it was," Gary answered. "Whether it actually is or not is an entirely different matter. Ash would probably know more, if he was willing to talk about it."

"Ash and Silver are actually half-siblings," Cilan added. "They share the same father, but different mothers. They didn't know about each other's existence until they were teenagers."

"Is the reason why Ash doesn't like talking about him because they didn't like each other?" Bonnie appeared saddened by the concept.

"No, far from it," Iris said. "Ash _loved_ Silver."

"What's the problem, then?" Clemont asked.

"Well, judging by the fact that Silver _left_," Gary said frankly, "we don't think he ever felt the same way."

* * *

"You're _leaving_?" Kelly asked, appalled. The CIU staff was gathered together in the office for another mandatory meeting, this time with Drew standing at the front with May by his side. Zoey, Barry, Dawn, and Kenny's faces didn't break at the announcement, having already known about it since that morning.

"Not permanently, and I'll still be working while I'm away," Drew elaborated. "Even so, May will be in charge while I'm gone, and she is more than capable of taking care of things."

"Why are you leaving?" Savannah asked.

"Family emergency," Drew answered vaguely.

"Oh no..." Brianna's face fell.

"Well, I hope everything turns out okay," Conway offered.

"Thank you, Conway," Drew said.

"Same. I'm really sorry," Anthony said. "When does your flight leave?"

"In about two hours," Drew replied. "So I need to leave in a few minutes."

"Well then, get going!" Grace exclaimed. "Don't worry about us. You gotta take care of family matters. We all know that, and we'll keep at it here until you get back." A few noises of agreement followed, and May offered Drew a consoling smile, to which Drew appeared relieved. May was right; the staff _did_ understand.

"Thank you," he repeated. "Still, you all have my cell phone number. Call me anytime something arises."

Ursula scoffed.

"Hope your plane doesn't crash," she said flippantly, already rising to return to her work. The rest soon followed her lead, though a few staffers passed by Drew to offer their sympathies and well-wishes.

"Have a nice flight, okay?" Dawn briefly embraced Drew when she rose to meet him.

"Are you sure you're going to be all right, Dawn?" Drew asked, his voice full of concern.

"I'll be fine, I promise," she assured him. "No need to worry."

"Take care, man," Kenny said, giving Drew a pat on the back.

"Yeah, we're all hopin' it goes well for you," Barry added.

"Thank you again," Drew said. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," Zoey contended. "You take care of yourself, and we'll do the same. We'll have everything for the Q&amp;A pulled together by June 18th."

"Noted, Zoey." Drew's lips twitched into a smile.

May grabbed onto Drew's hand, giving it a light squeeze. She then turned to the others as she said, "Well, I need to take Drew to the airport. I'll see you all soon, okay?"

After offering their final goodbyes, May and Drew gathered there things and left the office. Dawn let out a sigh and fell into a seat, rubbing her temple. Kenny frowned, watching her.

"Dawn, maybe you should just take the rest of the day off," he suggested, but she shook her head.

"No, I don't want that," she said. "I'll just dwell if I do. I need to stay occupied."

"What's on your queue of things to do?" Zoey asked, leaning against the desk near where Dawn sat.

"I need to... I don't even know," Dawn sighed. "I guess I need to working on booking the hotels and flights for our panelists..." She turned toward a computer, booting it up. "And speaking of hotels, I guess I ought to find one for myself. Sleeping here last night wasn't all that comfortable."

"No," Zoey interjected firmly. "You are not getting a hotel."

"I'm not taking the apartment, Zoey." Dawn stood her ground.

"Fine, then you'll move in with me."

Dawn stared. Then, she broke into a small laugh.

"Zoey, I super appreciate it, but I don't need charity," she said.

"It's not charity," Zoey persisted. "You'll split the rent with me. In fact, you'd actually be doing a favor to me if you moved in. It would lighten the bills."

Dawn hesitated.

"... Are you sure?" she asked.

"I'm positive," Zoey answered. "Hey, it might even be fun. We'll watch horror movies and pretend the idiot who dies in the first twenty minutes is Paul. We can invite May over and watch her pretend she's not scared, and then go out for ice cream afterward."

Dawn couldn't help but smile crookedly, and Barry and Kenny exchanged satisfied glances. Zoey had done it again. Dawn stood up to hug her, and Zoey warmly accepted her into her arms.

"Thank you, Zoey," Dawn breathed into her friend's shoulder. "It means a lot."

"Don't worry about it." Zoey smiled, too, as she pulled away. "It'll be okay in the end, right?"

The sentimental moment was soon cut short by Barry yelling "Yoooo!" out in the office. Dawn winced, and Zoey looked annoyed—until they realized what prompted his reaction. Ash and Misty were in the office, and Leaf was lingering nearby. Ash grinned when he caught sight of the group, and he just short of broke into a run—he had developed enough sense to know running indoors, especially in an office full of expensive technological equipment, was impolite and not a good idea—to meet them.

"Hey!" Ash exclaimed as he and Barry practically tackled each other. Dawn laughed aloud, and Kenny inwardly smiled at the fact that there was no trace of bitterness or sadness in the sound.

"What are you guys doing here?" Dawn asked.

"Oh, you know—" Ash turned toward her, though he kept an arm slung around Barry's shoulder. "—just helping Leaf with some G-Men stuff."

"Leaf's letting you help her with stuff before you have a match?" Zoey raised her eyebrows.

"Amazing, isn't it?" Misty chuckled.

"Let's not get into that," Leaf grumbled. She changed the subject. "Where are May and Drew?"

"You actually just missed them," Kenny said. "They left several minutes ago. May's dropping him off at the airport."

Leaf furrowed her eyebrows.

"Where's he going?" she asked.

"La Rousse," Zoey answered. "He found out yesterday that Chris is dying."

"_What?_" Ash's eyes widened, and similar shock found its way into both Misty and Leaf's expressions as well. Ash continued, "Wait, you mean Chris as in his father?"

"Mhm," Zoey hummed affirmatively.

"I thought Drew and his father were estranged," Misty said.

"They are, but still, I don't think it's easy for anyone to have a parent die," Zoey said. "I'm sure Drew feels really conflicted over it."

"So, uh, what's the reason for the visit today?" Kenny asked, trying to lighten the conversation again.

"I wanted to ask you guys something," Ash answered. "You see, the rest of the gang is here, too—Gary and Ritchie are back at the Opelucid Gym with Iris and Cilan, and my friends from Kalos are also there!"

"Really?" Dawn asked.

"Yeah!" Ash nodded excitedly.

"Remind me their names," Zoey said.

"Serena, Clemont, Bonnie." Ash listed them off on his fingers. "I thought it'd be cool if we could arrange some kind of dinner or something, so we could all get together again and you could meet them, though I guess Drew wouldn't be able to come..."

"I'm down," Kenny said. "Er, though it might get kinda weird if Paul's there."

"Tonight might not be the best night," Zoey agreed. Dawn felt her breath catch, especially upon seeing her Kantonese friends' confused expressions. Leaf's face soon changed, though, to show signs of wariness.

"Why would it be weird if Paul was there?" she asked.

"Paul didn't tell you?" Kenny blinked.

"Guys, it's not a big deal..." Dawn said quietly. She didn't want this to be brought up now, but she wasn't heard.

"Paul didn't tell me what?" Leaf pressed, her voice running lower.

"Well, he, um... broke up with Dawn last night," Kenny finally answered.

Leaf stared. Then, she clenched her jaw.

"_Oh._"

* * *

"I got you your hotel," Paul announced gruffly as he returned to the living room, forcing the conversation to be put on hold. Serena blinked and looked up at him, unsure of how to respond.

"Oh, thank you!" Bonnie said cheerfully, saving Serena from needing to speak.

"Where is it?" Iris asked.

"Not far from here," Paul answered, sitting beside her on the sofa. "It's the same place I stayed last night."

"Why would you have stayed in a hotel yesterday?" Gary quirked an eyebrow.

Before Paul had a chance to answer, everyone in the room winced when they heard the door in the next room fly open.

"_Paul Julian Rebolledo_," they heard Leaf angrily call out.

"Not my middle name," Paul droned, just loud enough for his voice to carry.

"You have a middle name?" Iris asked.

"I don't," Paul said flatly, just as Leaf came storming into view. She fiercely grabbed the fabric of his sleeve.

"You and I need to talk," she hissed, pulling on his arm. Paul begrudgingly rose up and followed her.

They left, the door slamming again. A thick silence followed; no one knew what to say, or even what to think. The Kalosian trio appeared especially bewildered. Iris's mouth hung open slightly, but she soon snapped her jaw tightly shut.

"Please excuse me for a couple minutes," she said tersely as she rose up and calmly followed after her fellow Champions. Cilan let out a long breath and looked back toward his guests.

"Can I get anyone more tea?" he asked.

* * *

"What's this about?" Paul demanded when Leaf shut them inside Iris's office.

She spun around to face him, angry as she asked, "You broke up with Dawn?"

"Yes, I did," he admitted, his words pointed. "Last night."

"Why?"

"Why is it your business?" Paul retorted.

"Because..." Leaf let out a short, exasperated laugh. "You literally could not have picked a worse time to do this! I already have to take care of Iris's pregnancy and Georgia's car accident, and now I have to worry about this?"

"I'm sorry this is so _inconvenient_ for you," Paul said with a heavily irritated sarcasm.

"No, you don't understand." Leaf turned and snatched one of several Ganlon berries in a fruit bowl on Iris's coffee table "This is Iris being pregnant," she said, holding the first fruit out to him. She grabbed a second berry. "This is Georgia getting into a car accident." Finally, a third. "And this is you breaking up with Dawn. These are all media relations pieces I have to handle at once. I'm terrible at juggling, and if I were to actually go through with this visual metaphor, you would see me drop all these berries on the floor, but I'd prefer Iris not go back to the hospital because she didn't get enough of her Iron."

The office door opened and Iris walked inside, looking ticked herself.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"This doesn't concern you, Iris," Leaf dismissed, which clearly struck a nerve with the Unova Champion.

"My office, my gym, my region—this _is_ my concern," Iris pressed.

"I broke up with Dawn last night," Paul grumbled, deciding it was better to be upfront than make Iris more upset by locking her out of the conversation.

"What?" Iris's expression changed to one of confusion and perhaps a twinge of sadness. "When were you going to tell us this?"

"I wasn't aware I had to get permission from my co-workers on how to manage my personal relationships," Paul groused.

"We're more than your co-workers, Paul, we're friends," Iris reminded.

"Then tell our friend Leaf to stop treating me like I'm her job," Paul snapped. Leaf glared and opened her mouth to retort, but he pressed on. "No, I'm not finished yet. My personal life is not yours to regulate for the sake of the G-Men and the league's reputation. Are you going to lay out a schedule detailing how many children Iris and Cilan can have and when, too?"

Leaf pursed her lips, but said nothing.

"As for you, Iris," Paul continued, turning toward the Unova Champion, "if you want to be concerned as a friend, fine. But here's my response: I don't want to talk about it. Leave it at that."

"You're right," Leaf finally said.

"_What?_" Paul snapped his head back toward her.

"I said you're right," Leaf repeated, "and I'm sorry."

Paul was at a loss of what to say. He hadn't expected Leaf would apologize, and it had largely suspended the animosity between the three Champions. Leaf brushed her bangs out of her face and looked away.

"Ash wants to have dinner with us, his Kalosian friends, and the CIU," she said, subdued. "The CIU can't do it tonight, but they do want it to happen."

"I'm fine with that," Iris said. "In fact, we could have them here for dinner next weekend, maybe. Cilan wanted his brothers to come visit again soon, and I think it'd be nice if we had everyone together. I also happen to like Ash's friends from Kalos, and I don't think we've done a great job making a good impression. I'd like to fix that."

"There is a problem." Leaf turned her gaze back toward Paul. "How can we expect you, Paul, and Dawn to be in the same room together now?"

"Not a problem," Paul said gruffly. "I just won't come."

"Paul, don't that way," Iris huffed, but he shook his head and turned toward the door.

"I'm going back to my hotel," he said. "I'll be back tomorrow. Arceus knows why, since Iris still hasn't picked her chief for her G-Men division."

He shut the door behind him, and Leaf glared where he had gone. Iris sighed and drew her arms around herself.

_**May 30th, 2009. Early Evening. La Rousse City.**_

Drew stared up at the iridescent gate before him, and then at the mansion he used to call home looming above the horizon behind it. He snapped his head forward again and pulled his suitcase behind him, moving toward the intercom installed on left white pillar connected to the gate and wall surrounding the estate.

"_Welcome to the residence of Christopher Rogers,_" the voice chimed in when Drew lifted the metallic lid and pressed the intercom button. "_What business do you have here?_"

"I'm here to see my father."

A short silence followed.

"_Welcome back, Young Master._" The gate automatically began to slide open. Drew grimaced as he stepped away from the intercom; he had forgotten his father's staff had once bestowed that title upon him.

The rose garden, which lined the pathway toward the mansion, was as pristine as it had been more than a decade earlier. Drew paused to take in the scene before pulling out one of his Pokéballs. He bent down and let out the Pokémon inside: his Roserade. Roserade was initially confused until she glanced about the area, realizing they were standing in the same garden she and her trainer had met years ago.

Drew smiled crookedly and said, "Welcome home, right?" He then straightened up, telling her, "Enjoy yourself. I'll come back for you later."

He continued on his way, toward the front entrance. Yet, the doors opened before he could make it there, and a tall, thin and very blonde man came outside to greet him.

"Are you Andrew Rogers?" the man called out to him.

"Drew Hayden," Drew corrected.

"Pardon?" The man raised an eyebrow.

"I go by Drew Hayden now," Drew elaborated. "If you're looking for the son of Chris Rogers, though, that's me."

"Ah, well, it's a pleasure to meet you." The man shook Drew's hand when they met. "I'm Elijah. I was the person who first contacted Ms. Natochenny and who spoke with you this morning."

Drew said nothing at first, his eyes scanning Elijah, who tilted his head in response.

"Is something wrong?" Elijah asked.

"... I recognize you," Drew finally said.

"Do you?"

"You're the SAMPLe representative who met with Iris just a few days ago," Drew recalled. "My staff and I were scheduled to meet with her right after you. You walked out not long after we arrived."

"Ah, yes. I do indeed work for SAMPLe," Elijah confirmed. "I learned what happened with Ms. Ajagara after I left. I heard on the news earlier today that she is in fact pregnant, though."

"She is." Drew pulled his hand back. "How do you know my father?"

"He and I are friends," Elijah answered. "Small world, I suppose."

"Yeah... small world..." Drew looked and sounded wary, but Elijah didn't appear perturbed. He stepped aside and gestured toward the door.

"Anyway, there are some people to whom I should introduce you," he said. Drew nodded toward him and moved forward, sliding through the open door into the mansion. Drew stopped in the middle of the tiled floor, his mind beginning to unconsciously map the steps he and his father had taken through this same room, from the the place he had once met the leader of Team Rocket and up the stairs into his bedroom, his father dragging him by the arm.

Elijah closed the door behind them.

"Please follow me," Elijah told him. Drew did so, and Elijah took him into one of the living areas, where two young women sat chatting on sofas parallel to each other.

"Ana, Olivia," Elijah said, getting their attention. "This is Christopher's son, Drew..."

"Hayden," Drew finished for him.

"Drew Hayden," Elijah repeated.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Hayden," said one of the women as she stood. She bowed her head toward Drew, her silvery hair falling across her cheek as she did.

"These are your father's Hospice nurses: Ana and Olivia Hollingshead." Elijah gestured to each as he said their names. Olivia was the silver-haired woman; Ana was blonde. "They're sisters, and they work around the clock to make sure your father is as comfortable as possible."

"At least, we're trying our best," Ana said.

"Where is my father right now?" Drew asked.

"Sleeping," Olivia answered. "We have him on a Morphine drip to ease the pain."

"Right..." Drew trailed off.

"In the meantime, why don't we get you settled?" Elijah suggested. "I had one of your father's housemaids prepare one of the guest rooms for you as soon as I received your call this morning."

Drew let out a long breath.

"Sure," he said.

_**May 30th, 2009. Evening. Opelucid City.**_

Paul had half-expected Dawn to be at the apartment when he returned to obtain more of the possessions he left behind following their fight the previous evening; he, however, did not expect to find Zoey there instead. It had been eerily quiet when Paul first walked through the door, so he thought he had been in the clear. Yet, when he made it to the bedroom, he found her folding up some of Dawn's shirts and placing them in a suitcase.

"Welcome home, sweetie," Zoey dryly greeted when he walked through the doorway. She didn't look up when she spoke.

"What are you doing here?" Paul asked, too tired to sound upset.

"What does it look like?" Zoey threw back. "I'm packing Dawn's things to save her the grief of having to come back here. She's moving in with me."

"I intended to leave her the apartment."

"She knows," Zoey said curtly. "She doesn't want to take it. You put down the two month's rent, and she doesn't want the guilt of staying here."

"And I do?"

"The apartment or the guilt?"

"Let's go with both."

Zoey paused, her gaze meeting his.

"So you are guilty?" she asked.

"That's not what I said, but okay," Paul grumbled.

"Let's make this conversation quick," Zoey continued, ignoring his comment. "Are you planning on making amends with Dawn or not? She loves you, but she doesn't know what to do, so if you want to fix things, you will have to start the conversation this time. I don't mind Dawn moving in with me, but it would save everyone a lot of trouble in the long run if you just sucked it up and worked things out now, if that's what you want to do."

Paul's pressed his lips into a hard line.

"I don't know what I want to do," he said. "That's my answer."

Zoey stared at him wordlessly for a long moment. Then, she turned back toward the dresser and pulled out another of Dawn's shirts.

"Well... that's that, I guess," she said.

_**May 30th, 2009. Evening. La Rousse City.**_

Drew didn't know what to do when he finished unpacking. Initially, he had considered calling May, but he scratched out that idea; he had already talked to her an hour earlier while riding the lightrail from the airport to his father's home, just to let her know he'd arrived safely, and he didn't want to bother her so soon again.

He ended up wandering out into the hallway, unsure of where he was going, but supposing he might as well go for a walk. He considered returning to the rose garden, find Roserade, and maybe train to kill some time, but he decided it was too dark out for that. It was hard to go from having something to do every hour of the day working for the CIU to suddenly having... nothing to do.

In time, however, Drew found himself passing by his old bedroom door, and he felt compelled to stop. Curiosity overtook him, and he reached for the door handle, discovering it was unlocked. The door creaked open, and Drew flicked on the flight as he stepped inside.

Drew didn't know what to expect—there were no specifics in mind—but he had at least expected change. Yet, when he stepped inside, he found everything exactly as it was when left it that final evening in July nearly twelve years earlier. His old textbooks were on his desk; his clothes, the ones he didn't take with him, still hung in his closet; the bedsheets hadn't been changed. Yet, not a speck of dust was to be found. Someone had still been maintaining the room, keeping it in the same condition, as if they wanted him to return and resume life as though nothing had happened.

A chill ran through Drew's body, and it was accompanied by the feeling that maybe it was a mistake he came.

"Mr. Hayden?" Elijah knocked on the cracked-open door, peering inside. "I've been looking for you. You're father is awake, and I told him you're here. Would you like to see him?"

Drew frowned.

"Seeing as you told him I'm here, I'm guessing I have no choice," he said.

Drew followed Elijah out, refusing to cast another glance inside his childhood enclave; he had no intention to return. His father's bedroom was further down the hallway, and the door was already open. Elijah stopped and stood aside, indicating Drew should go in before him. Drew sucked in his breath and moved forward.

The first thing Drew saw was not his father. It was the heart monitor, and then the Morphine drip. Olivia and Ana were present, too, blocking Chris from Drew's view as they fussed over their patient.

"Andrew?" Chris must have caught a glimpse of his son, as he gestured for Olivia to move. She did so, and for the first time in seven years, Chris and Drew saw each other again.

"Hi, Dad," Drew said stiffly as he approached his father's bedside. It became unnervingly clear to Drew that Chris's health was indeed failing him, judging by the way he looked. His skin was pale and clammy; his hair was thinning, Drew guessed, from chemotherapy treatments he was too weak to continue receiving.

"I wasn't sure you would come," Chris said.

Drew shook his head.

"I wasn't sure I would either."

.

.


	10. IX: In Which Serena Finds the Plotholes

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.

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Chapter IX: In Which Serena Finds the Plotholes

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_**June 5th, 2009. Late Evening. Opelucid City.**_

"I wish you could've been here," May said wistfully, drawing her legs closer to herself. She sat alone on her and Drew's bed, her cell phone pressed to her ear. "It was fun, tonight. Plus, Cilan and his brothers always deliver on good food."

"_There will be other times the group gets together for dinner,_" Drew dismissed. "_And considering where I'm staying, I've been eating pretty well._"

"I know, but still—" May flopped back against her pillow. "—Ash's friends from Kalos are here, and it would have been cool for you to meet them."

"_Oh? What are they like?_"

"I like them a lot!" May laughed. "Clemont and Bonnie are brother and sister, and they're adorable. Seeing them together kind of made me miss Max, actually... Serena's kind of quiet, but she seems nice."

"_How were Dawn and Paul tonight?_"

"Hm?" May intoned.

"_How did Dawn and Paul get along?_" Drew repeated.

"Oh... Paul didn't actually come," she answered.

"_I guess I should have expected that,_" he conceded. "_How's Dawn?_"

"She seems to be doing better, but I think she's still pretty upset over it."

"_It hasn't even been a week, yet,_" Drew said. "_She just needs more time._"

"Yeah..." May agreed, trailing off. "How are things going in La Rousse?"

"_All right, I guess,_" he replied. "_I'm still not sure what to make of Elijah or the hospice staff._"

"What's wrong with them?"

"_They're just... I don't know,_" Drew sighed. "_I can't put my finger on it. They're probably fine, and I'm just overly suspicious of them because they're associated with my father._"

"You should trust your instincts!" May encouraged. "Aside from those guys, though, what about you and your father?"

"_He mostly sleeps,_" Drew said. "_Morphine makes you sleepy, which I guess is good. He doesn't seem at all aloof when he's awake and talking, but it's clear he's in pain. You can definitely tell he's down to his last several weeks just looking at him._"

"Have you guys talked?"

"_I've kind of avoided it,_" Drew admitted. "_Our conversations thus far have been pretty shallow, but at least I haven't felt any worse talking to him._"

"That's... good?"

"_It's not bad, anyway._" A pause. "_It's getting pretty late, and I know you have work to do tomorrow._"

"Right..." She added, "I miss you."

"_I miss you, too,_" Drew said. "Get some sleep, okay?"

"I will," May promised, her toes curling. "Goodnight!"

* * *

"Finally, we're back!" Bonnie threw herself onto her hotel bed. "I'm beat. Tonight was so much fun, though, and man, Cilan and his brothers sure can cook!"

"It was good," Serena tacitly agreed, setting her purse down on the desk.

"I think Ash was on to something when he said that it would be cool if Cilan, Brock, and Clemont all got together to make something." Bonnie rolled onto her belly and rested her chin on her hands as she lazily grinned at Serena. "Too bad Brock had to stay back in Pewter City..."

"I wonder if he stayed behind because he knew he'd be out of place, too," Serena mused aloud.

"What do you mean?" Bonnie's expression changed to one of confusion.

"Never mind," Serena nervously laughed.

"No, really," Bonnie pressed. "What is it?"

Serena hesitated as she sat on the edge of the bed parallel to Bonnie's.

"I don't know. I just..." She paused, deciding to take another approach. "Do you ever get the sense that we don't fit in? With Ash's other friends?"

"Um... I guess I haven't really thought about it," Bonnie admitted. "I like them, though. They're nice!"

"Oh, they are!" Serena quickly nodded. "But I just don't feel like we click them the way they do with each other."

"I think it's just because they've known each other longer," Bonnie said, shrugging.

"Exactly. They have a history together, one that we're not a part of." Serena sighed, adding, "We don't really know what happened before we met Ash, when he and the others were part of this huge, complex story. It was the adventure of a lifetime, I'm sure, and it's clear they're all super close because of it. We can't replicate that."

"I don't know about that."

"You don't?" Serena raised an eyebrow.

"We just need an adventure of our own, that's all," Bonnie said, grinning again. "If it's any consolation, though... That person, N, is supposed to leave the hospital Sunday... so I guess we'll probably be leaving then, too, to go back to Pallet Town."

Serena smiled crookedly.

"Yeah," she said. "That is something."

* * *

"You sure you don't want to stay tonight?" Iris asked as she and Cilan stood across from his brothers in the front room of the Opelucid gym's living quarters.

"Yeah. We got work tomorrow," Chili said, rubbing the back of his head.

"Don't worry, though," Cress reassured her. "There'll be no traffic at this hour, so we'll be home half-past midnight."

"Well, drive safe," Cilan said. "And thank you for coming tonight, and for helping with dinner."

"It was our pleasure," Cress replied germanely. "Besides, we enjoy spending time with you and the others."

"For sure." Chili then bent down, so he was level with Iris's lower abdomen. "You make sure you don't give your mom any more trouble, okay? No more fainting, and keep the morning sickness to a minimum."

Iris rolled her eyes and shoved him on the shoulder.

"Stop. You're so weird," she said.

"Hey, hey—" Chili put up his hands defensively as he straightened. "—just wanna get a head start as the favorite uncle, that's all."

"You're a shoo-in for most annoying brother-in-law," Iris grumbled.

"Man, your pregnancy hormones are already working full-time, aren't they?" Chili grinned. "Besides, are you really gonna call _me_ annoying when Cress is the one who irons his socks?"

Cress glared at him while the others laughed, and Iris was smiling again when it died down.

"Thanks again for coming," she said. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight. I'm sure we'll see you again soon," Cress replied, recovering.

After the family parted, Cilan and Iris returned to the conjoined kitchen and dining room. There, they found Gary putting away the now-cleaned dishes while Leaf was at the table with her headphones plugged into her laptop.

"Oh, Gary, please don't worry about that," Cilan hastily said. "You're one of our guests."

"Hey, it's the least I can do for letting us stay in the guest room," Gary defended with a shrug.

"Precisely. _Guest_ room," Cilan emphasized.

Leaf let out a frustrated sigh and pulled her earbuds out, which drew the attention of her companions.

"What's the matter?" Iris asked.

"There's _nothing_ here of use to me," Leaf said, frustrated. "I have almost ten hours of Ash talking about his life, but nothing about Team Plasma."

"You could sell it and have someone make a television show about it," Gary suggested. When Leaf glowered at him, Gary's lips quirked into a smile and he said, "What? A show about Ash's life would probably be very popular."

"I thought the agreement was that if N met Ash, then N would talk about Team Plasma," Cilan said.

"That was the agreement." Leaf nodded. "We've been letting N guide the conversation for the past week, trying to make him happy and comfortable so he'll open up about Plasma. But all he's wanted to talk about thus far is Ash for some reason. Now he's two days away from being released, and who knows what will happen after that? I even have to get new batteries for my voice recorder, and I didn't think that would be necessary. I thought I'd have all the information I need by now."

"So what are you going to do?" Iris asked.

Leaf sighed again as she shut her laptop.

"I'm going to have to ask Ash to start pushing N to talk about himself for a change," she said. "There's no way around that."

_**June 6th, 2009. Morning. La Rousse City.**_

"Seven days," Olivia breathed as she passed her hand over the unconscious Chris's forehead; he was running a fever. "Seven days, and nothing has happened. We held up our end of the bargain. We said we would bring him his son, and we did. Yet, he has turned us down every time we ask if he wants to call his lawyer."

Ana sat across from Olivia on the other side of Chris, while Elijah remained standing. Drew had yet to wake up.

"We must exhibit patience, my dear," Elijah said. "I'm sure in time, Mr. Rogers will honor the promises he made."

"We don't have time to give," Ana spoke up. "The sickness is unpredictable, and it's killing him faster than any of us thought."

"Fascinating, isn't it?" A small, sly kind of smile crossed Elijah's expression, complementing the twinkle in his eye.

"This is serious, Eli," Olivia said.

"I know. I'm sorry," Elijah apologized. "You must understand, my intellectual curiosities sometimes overcome my better judgement. I wanted to go this route for my own studies."

"Should've stayed in Unova for that," Ana grumbled.

"I cannot observe its effects with humans up-close in Unova as I can here, Annie," Elijah said.

"Annie?"

The three snapped their head toward the doorway to Chris's room, where Drew was leaning against the frame. His hair was damp, having recently showered.

"Yes?" Ana rose up, bowing her head to him.

"I thought your name was Ana, not Annie," Drew remarked.

"It is," Olivia said quickly. "Annie is a nickname."

"Huh," was all Drew said in response. He strolled further inside, getting a closer look at his father. "How is he?"

"He's feverish, but otherwise, he slept through the night just fine," Ana said.

"Of course he did. Sleeping is all he does."

Olivia exchanged a quick glance with both Ana and Elijah as an idea began to churn in her head. She looked back at up at Drew before asking, "Perhaps you would like us to remove the Morphine drip, just for a little bit, so he can be awake, and you can talk more?"

"While suffering?" Drew shook his head. "No thanks. I'm not interested in talking anyway."

_**June 6th, 2009. Morning. Opelucid City.**_

Confusion patterned across N's face as he turned another page in an old issue of Coordinators Weekly, which one of his nurses had brought to him earlier in the day to help cure his boredom. Yet, he lifted his head when the door opened, and he beamed when he saw his visitors had returned.

"Oh, good! You're back," N said, setting the magazine aside.

"Hey, N," Ash greeted with a two-finger salute. He took his usual spot at N's bedside, while Leaf and Misty shuffled to the back of the room. Pikachu immediately jumped from Ash's shoulder to N's lap, and N affectionately rubbed the top of his head. A routine had been set.

"So!" N started again. "Can you pick up where you left off yesterday?"

Ash hesitated and exchanged a quick glance with Leaf behind him. She nodded.

"Actually..." Ash began slowly.

"Actually... ?" N tilted his head.

"I was wondering if maybe we could talk about you for a change," Ash said.

"About me? What would you want to know about me?" N blinked.

"Leaf told me you said you were raised by Pokémon. I think that's pretty interesting," Ash offered.

"I suppose so... All right!" N agreed with a smile. "We can talk about me for today, I suppose."

Leaf's lip twitched into a smirk. Ash had done it. She reached into her back pocket to turn her recorder on, but a chilling memory emerged in her mind, and her breath caught. Misty looked at her, alarmed.

"What's the matter?" Misty asked in a low voice.

"My batteries are dead. I forgot to replace them today," Leaf said in a desperate whisper.

"_What?_"

"I forgot that the batteries in my recorder had died yesterday, and I didn't get replacements," Leaf elaborated.

"Is something wrong?" N inclined his head toward the two women, hearing wisps of their hushed conversation.

"No, not at all," Leaf quickly said. "Please excuse us for a few minutes."

She exchanged a pointed look with Ash, and while he didn't understand what the problem was, he understood the message that he needed to wait until they returned. Leaf ushered Misty out with her, and Ash turned stiffly back toward N. As soon as the door closed, however, N merely laughed and shook his head, causing Ash to blink in bewilderment.

"Hey, what's up?" Ash asked.

"Oh, nothing," N said after regathering himself. His smile then diminished, his expression turning more serious as he said, "I know what this is about."

"You do?"

N nodded, continuing in a gentler tone, "You, Leaf, and your friend Misty... You've all been so patient with me." N looked down, beginning to pet Pikachu again. "I haven't forgotten the promise I made to Leaf—that if I met you, I would tell her what she wanted to know about Team Plasma. I don't break my promises, and I won't for this one. I suppose I've been so caught up in wanting to hear about you, though, that I disregarded the ends I needed to meet."

Ash appeared relieved; Leaf would be happy to know N was still willing to talk about Team Plasma. Yet, his own curiosity overcame him.

"N, can I ask you a question?" Ash asked.

"Go ahead," N politely replied.

"Why are you..." Ash paused, wondering what would be the best way to phrase his question. "... so interested in hearing about me?"

N was silent for a long moment. His hands stopped moving, and Pikachu looked up at him, both curious and wary.

"I don't like Pokémon trainers," N finally said, and Ash drew back, surprised. "It bothers me, the concept. People keeping Pokémon trapped inside balls, forcing them to battle, entering into competitions, where if won, all the glory goes to the trainer, and not to the Pokémon who suffered to get them the victory."

Ash immediately wanted to disagree, to explain it wasn't like that at all—but N kept talking.

"I've seen Pokémon suffer at the hands of their trainers. I think Pokémon would be better off without their trainers, in the wild, where they're supposed to be," he continued. "That's why I'm a part of Team Plasma. We want to liberate Pokémon from their trainers, give them the freedom they deserve. Yet..."

"Yet?" Ash gently prodded.

"When I heard about you," N went on, smiling again, "I thought, 'Maybe all trainers aren't so bad.' I heard about your Pikachu, how you never keep it inside its Pokéball, because it doesn't like it there. That baffled me. It was the first I ever heard of a trainer respecting their Pokémon's wishes like that. Moreover, knowing you have other Pokémon who you do keep inside their Pokéballs..." He paused. "Ash, a question. If none of your other Pokémon wanted to stay inside their balls, would you let them roam free like how you do with Pikachu?"

"Uh, yeah!" Ash nodded. "For sure. It might get a little hectic, but I think it'd be fun, too."

"I thought so." N leaned back. "And knowing that makes me wonder: Are Pokéballs as bad as I was always told they were? Are Pokémon as miserable in them as I always thought? It's an intriguing query..."

"I guess I never thought about it before," Ash admitted.

"Most people don't," N said.

"If you can talk to Pokémon, why don't you just ask them how they feel about it?" Ash asked, as though it were obvious.

"I have," N tacitly replied. "And they've said they don't mind, but I can't tell whether I should believe them or not. Ghetsis has told me I can't. Trainers are their masters. They could be hurt if they said something ill against their masters."

Ash shook his head, feeling disagreement rise up in his throat. He pushed it back down, however.

"Who's Ghetsis?" he asked.

"Oh, I'm sorry," N quickly apologized. "Ghetsis is the leader of Team Plasma. He found me living among the Pokémon, and he brought me into the fold, made me its prince. Anyway-"

"-Whoa, wait, what?" Ash cut him off. "Prince? Prince of what?"

"Prince of Team Plasma," N said. "Anyway..." N again tried to move on, as if the detail was unimportant, as if it wasn't at all interesting. Ash stared at him, dumbfounded, but he didn't try to stop him and get him to elaborate even further this time. He had the sense to know it would be better to do that when Leaf was back in the room.

"I was also interested in you when I heard those stories about how you saved Moltres and Mewtwo," N said. "And even now, you tell me more stories—ones that I didn't know before—about you saving other Pokémon, putting your life on the line for them. I didn't know someone like you could exist... a trainer who genuinely seems to love Pokémon."

"There are plenty of trainers who love Pokémon, N," Ash finally spoke out.

"I doubt that." N shook his head.

"I could name you fourteen, right now," Ash said.

"Including your brother?" N raised an eyebrow.

"_Plus_ my brother," Ash insisted. "He, and those other fourteen, they were there with me when we went to save Moltres and Mewtwo. Leaf and Misty are two of them."

N didn't seem convinced as he hummed and looked away.

"That's okay," he said. "I don't need to know."

Ash sighed, rubbing the back of his head.

"... N? Can I ask you another question?"

"Certainly," N replied.

"How did you meet my brother?" Ash's hand dropped to his side. "I've... been wanting to ask since we first met, but I wasn't comfortable doing it with Misty and Leaf around."

N's eyes moved back toward Ash.

"I owe my life to your brother," he said simply. "And he owes his to me."

"What do you mean?" Ash asked.

"I've been lucky enough to meet Oscar twice," N said. "The first time, he saved me. The second, I saved him."

Ash gave N a strange look.

"Oscar?"

N frowned.

"Well, that's his name, isn't it?" he said.

_**November 8th, 2002. Evening. Somewhere in Unova.**_

"The rain is becoming more heavy," Concordia remarked, her eyes turned toward the dark sky. "We should go back. Ghetsis will be worried."

She stood with her siblings, N and Anthea, under the thick canopy of a large, sycamore tree. As the weather intensified, however, the tree's large leaves and branches grew weaker as a form of protection. Yet, N still shook his head.

"No," he refused. "That Swanna is relying on us to find her missing Ducklett. I can only imagine she's more worried now. Her son could be in danger with this type of weather."

"I know, but..." Anthea began gently.

"No buts," N cut her off. "We made a promise. And us humans owe so much to Pokémon. Finding that Ducklett cannot even begin to make up for the harm we've caused, but it is something."

Concordia and Anthea stayed silent, and N sighed.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I didn't mean to sound so harsh. It's unfair of me to demand this of you." He looked forward again, into the haze of the storm. "You can stay here, but I'm going."

He hurried forward, and his sisters cried out to him, but their voices drowned with the rain. The bottoms of his pants grew muddier and heavier as he moved, directionless, not having the slightest idea of where the Ducklett might be; it certainly didn't help that the rain was coming down so hard that he could hardly see a few feet in front of him.

N stopped and took a deep breath. He needed to think this through; he needed to listen. He closed his eyes, trying to tune out the sounds of rain, trying to hear the cries of a Pokémon in distress.

Soon, the sound of rushing water—an overflowing riverbed—passed through his mind. And its stream carried the Ducklett after which he sought. N opened his eyes again.

"The river," he said to himself, calmly, before moving forward again. He knew where to go. He had spent most of his life there, living as an orphan among the Pokémon, before Ghetsis took him in, before he was introduced to his new sisters. He remembered the river, playing in it with the Pokémon, drinking from it with them.

He also remembered its dangers in storms like these.

N stopped at the head of steep incline overlooking the river, which had indeed risen with the onset of the rain. His eyes scanned its rapid waters, searching for the poor creature, hoping it hadn't been swallowed by the black waves.

Then, he heard him, and his gurgled cries to stay afloat. N breath caught when he finally saw the tiny Ducklett being ruthlessly washed downstream, its head being forced beneath the water every few seconds.

"Hang on, Ducklett!" N called out to him. He slid down the muddy slope and, without a second thought, dove into the cold water after the drowning Ducklett.

Ironic, for a Water-type, N briefly thought as his head rose to the surface and he gasped in air. The water was murkier than he thought, and his vision was now clouded with muck. Nevertheless, he desperately rose an arm to wipe his face before power swimming toward the Pokémon.

"Don't worry," N assured the Ducklett when he reached him, pulling him close to his chest with a stable arm. "I've got you now."

An unexpected wave suddenly forced his head far beneath the surface, and the back of his head slammed against an underwater rock. Disorientation set in, and he panicked when he realized he didn't know which way was up.

At least, he had the sense to hold onto Ducklett.

Luckily for him, the current pushed him briefly above the surface again, enough to gulp in some air, before he was forced down once more. Although N's thoughts had become scrambled, he understood one simple truth: If he couldn't regain his sense of self and swim to shore, both he and Ducklett would drown.

He broke through the surface again, and he thought he heard his sisters calling his name in the distance, though he could have been imagining it. There was one thing he definitely _didn't_ imagine, though.

"Feraligatr, go!"

This time, when N went under, he felt the amphibious, clawed hands of the Pokémon whose name he'd heard called grasp his waist and pull him up. N could no longer see through the filter of silt in his eyes, but he felt another human hand grab the back of his shirt and pull him onto land.

Then, he felt nothing.

* * *

It was still raining when N regained consciousness.

His head—which was throbbing painfully in back, where he had hit the rock—was resting against a bag, one that certainly didn't belong to him or either of his sisters. Although lethargic from fighting against the dangerous waters earlier, N slowly sat up, trying to reorient himself. He was inside a cave.

"Looks like your awake, finally."

N glanced toward his left, where a young, red-haired teen sat in front of a crackling fire.

"Is Ducklett okay?" N asked. Even now, the Ducklett's safety was the chief of his concerns.

The teen raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. He's fine..." he answered. "He's here with me."

It was then N realized the Ducklett was curled up on the boy's lap, and he let out a deeply relieved sigh, placing his hand over his heart. Then, he smiled.

"Are you the person who saved us?" he asked.

"I guess." The teen shrugged. "You should actually thank my Feraligatr."

"I should," N agreed, beaming. "Where is he?"

"In his Pokeball."

"Oh..." N's face fell, and there was a flicker of disdain in his eyes. If the boy noticed the change in the atmosphere, he didn't care.

"We really ought to get you to a hospital. I think you might have hit your head underwater. It was bleeding earlier," he said. "I couldn't do much with you unconscious, though. We're far away from civilization, and you're too heavy to carry."

"A hospital isn't necessary," N said curtly. "My home isn't far away from here."

"Where's your home?"

"Oh, I can't tell you that," N replied with dismissive wave.

"Okay..." The teen gave him a strange look.

"We just need to find my sisters, that's all," N continued.

"Not in this weather," the boy retorted. "You'll have to wait until it clears up."

"But they'll worry," N contended.

"Tough luck. I'm not risking my life to save yours again." The teen shook his head. "What were you doing out there anyway?"

"I was out there looking for that Ducklett," N admitted. "Its mother is very worried about it. When I saw it struggling in the currents of the river, well... I knew I had to do whatever I could to help it!"

The teen stared at N wordlessly for a while, and N soon became unnerved by his silver-eyed deadpan gaze.

"What are you looking at me like that for?" N asked.

"Nothing." The teen looked away. "You just remind me of someone I know."

N perked up, intrigued.

"Who?" he asked.

"My brother, Ash Ketchum," the teen answered.

N paused for a moment to commit the name to memory.

"And who are you?" N continued.

The teen hesitated, appearing unsure of whether he wanted to answer that question.

"Oscar," he answered finally. "Oscar Soul."

"Hmm," N intoned. "Well, Oscar, since we're staying in this cave until the rain stops... Would you mind telling me why I remind you of this Ash?"

_**June 6th, 2009. Morning. Opelucid City.**_

Paul heard his cell phone ring in the room next over, his bedroom, the moment he stepped out of the shower—and he decided he didn't care. He shook his hair to rid it of some of the excess and began drying other areas of himself with the towel on the counter, letting the call go to voicemail. Annoyance crossed his face when whoever was trying to get ahold of him called again. No longer dripping, Paul headed back into the bedroom, snatch up the device, and scowled at the caller ID before answering.

"What?"

"_Are you doing anything important right now?_" Leaf asked.

"I'm talking to you."

"_I need you to bring batteries to the hospital, like ASAP._" She was both demanding and desperate.

"What kind?" Paul was too tired to question why.

"_Triple A,_" Leaf answered.

"All right. I'll be there as soon as I can." Paul hung up and tossed the phone onto his sheets before sighing and draping his towel over his head.

* * *

"Mr. Ketchum?" a blonde nurse inquired as she stepped into the room. When Ash looked up at her, she continued, "There's a call from your mother waiting for you."

"From my mom?" Ash's eyes widened, and she nodded. "Um..." Ash looked back at N. "I should take this. I wanna hear more when I get back, though—about how you saved Sil- uh, I mean, Oscar."

"No worries," N replied coolly. "Take your time."

"Thanks," Ash said, relieved. He stood and let Pikachu climb back up his shoulder before quickly exiting the room. As soon as he was gone, the nurse pulled off her cap, revealing her blonde hair was in fact a wig. Rather, she had bobbed red hair, a style which N immediately recognized.

"Aldith!" he exclaimed, smiling. "I didn't know you were a nurse here."

"I'm not," Aldith said tersely, setting her wig and hat down on the chair where Ash previously sat. "I'm getting you out of here."

N appeared both alarmed and confused.

"Out of here? Why?" he asked, his eyes following her as she quickly moved toward the window. She peered outside and nodded to someone who was apparently down below.

"We spent days trying to figure out what happened to you," Aldith said, ignoring his question as she wrenched the window open. She then reached into her bag and pulled out a tightly bound pack of rope. "We were worried the G-Men would get to you, and they did. How much did you tell them?"

"Nothing, really..."

Aldith frowned.

"Ghetsis _won't_ be happy," she said, unfurling the rope to reveal it was actually a ladder. She hooked it into the windowsill and made sure it was secure before throwing it down. She face him again, asking, "Can you climb?"

"The doctor said I'm not supposed to leave for two more days," N said.

"That's the answer to a question I didn't ask. Can you climb?" Aldith repeated.

"I think so..." N trailed off.

"Good." She unclipped the sensor on his finger and ripped out his IV, causing him to yelp in pain. She then grabbed his unbroken arm and said, "Come on."

"I..." N yanked his arm away. "I don't want to go."

"Don't be ridiculous," Aldith scoffed.

"I made a promise," N pressed. "And Ash is expecting I'll be here when he comes back."

Aldith narrowed her gaze.

"N," she began seriously, "are you really more concerned about the promises made to the people who condone the enslavement of Pokémon? Or are you still loyal to us, Team Plasma, who will liberate all Pokémon in Unova and, eventually, the world?"

N's bottom lip quivered. Then, he slid out of bed.

* * *

"Ash better not be talking to N about Team Plasma now," Leaf grumbled, tapping her food. "I need that information to be recorded, for later reference."

Misty, who was standing with Leaf in the hospital lobby, rolled her eyes.

"If you're so worried, then why didn't you just leave me in the room?" Misty asked.

"I was going to send you to get the batteries, but I realized halfway down the elevator that it would be faster for Paul to just come straight here than for you to leave and come back," Leaf explained.

"Then I'll just go back up there, and I'll keep an eye on things," Misty said, peeling away from her. "Ash isn't as incompetent as you seem to think. He knows you want it all recorded. Even if they are talking right now, I'm sure Ash could just ask N to repeat anything he might have said when we're back in the room."

"Uh-huh." Misty's words didn't put Leaf any more at ease. When Misty disappeared, Leaf let out a shaky breath and sank onto one of the teal ottomans provided in the room. She would glance at the hospital entrance periodically, waiting for Paul to appear, but to no avail. Her impatience was growing, and she fingered the cell phone in her back pocket, wondering if she should give him a call and ask where he was.

Before she could reach a decision, however, the automatic doors slid open, and Paul walked inside. Leaf jumped up, hurrying to meet him.

"Thank you," she breathed gratefully. She paused, giving him a once-over. "Nice ponytail."

"You're welcome," Paul grumbled, handing her the batteries. "I didn't have a lot of time to get ready when you called, so I just did whatever and came."

"Hey, I'm not saying it's a bad thing, it's just different. Some girls are into the ponytail thing." Leaf smiled wryly. "Was Dawn?"

"I'm leaving." Irritated, Paul turned away and headed back toward the door.

"Thanks again!" Leaf called out to him, waving.

* * *

Ash meandered through the hallways of the hospital, unsure of where a video call station was set up. The nurse hadn't clarified where it was, and he had never used one at this location before. He took the stairs rather than the elevator to the first floor, continuing to look around—then, finally, he found what he wanted. A row of empty video phone booths lined the wall, and he quickly claimed occupancy of one. He dialed his mother's number from memory. It didn't take long for her to pick up, her face appearing on the screen.

"_Oh, hello Ash!_" Delia's expression brightened upon seeing her son.

"Hey, mom." Ash smiled, too.

"_I haven't heard from you since you first arrived in Unova, young man,_" Delia suddenly scolded. "_You may be an adult, but don't forget to call me every now and then, okay?_"

"Right, right, sorry," Ash nervously laughed. "I guess I've been caught up in some stuff since getting here."

"_So how is everything?_" Delia asked kindly. "_Are you helping Leaf like you said you would? How's Iris? Is she showing yet? Are she and Cilan excited? What about you and Misty? Are you together now?_"

"Whoa, Mom, not so many questions at once!" Ash waved his hands.

"_Sorry, dear,_" she apologized. "_That's what happens when we don't talk for a while._"

"Okay, well..." Ash paused, thinking. "Yeah, I've been trying to help Leaf as much as I can. I've been talking to this guy, N, trying to see if he knows anything that would help her out with Team Plasma and stuff. He seems pretty nice, a little weird, but overall nice. I don't agree with him on some stuff, but..." He shook his head, moving on. "Iris is fine. I don't know if she's 'showing' yet or not. I guess I haven't really looked. She and Cilan don't talk much about it, but they seemed pretty happy when we were having dinner yesterday. As for Misty and I... uh..."

_"This 'N,'_" Delia spoke up again, before Ash could finish, "_has he told you anything about Silver?_"

Ash blinked.

"How did you know about N knowing Silver?" he asked.

"_Brock told me,_" Delia answered. "_He said Misty was very nervous about it._"

"Yeah, I get the sense that she isn't too thrilled about it," Ash admitted. "Um, N talked a little about Silver—about how they met. I was actually in the middle of a conversation with him about it when a nurse told me you wanted to talk to me."

"_Hm?_" Now it was Delia's turn to look confused. "_Ash, you called me. I never put in a call to you._"

Ash furrowed his eyebrows.

"Wait, so, then why did the nurse say you had... ?" He frowned. "Mom, I'm gonna need to call you back."

He hung up and quickly excited the booth. Leaf happened to be passing by, and she cast him a strange look.

"Ash? What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I was talking to my mom," he quickly explained. "A nurse came by N's room and said my mom had called me, so I went to call her back."

Leaf turned her head suspiciously.

"That's..." She let out an exasperated laugh. "Ash, this isn't a Pokémon Center. Human hospitals don't have the same call network as Pokémon Centers. How would your mom have known you were here?"

Her expression deadpanned as revelation dawned on her, and she and Ash stared at each other wordlessly for a moment.

"Someone lied to you," she said before brushing past him, quickly headed toward the elevators. She pushed the 'up' button, and the doors opened. Misty stepped outside.

"Misty, where's N?" Leaf demanded, her voice wavering.

"Not in his room," Misty answered.

"_What?_"

"N's not in his room," she repeated seriously, "and there's a rope ladder hanging from the window sill."

_**June 6th, 2009. Afternoon. La Rousse City.**_

Neither Ana nor Olivia nor Elijah were around when Drew pushed the door to his father's bedroom open with his backside and walked inside. He was carrying a tray with a couple plates of food—a bowl of soup and a breadroll with butter. One of the duties Drew had taken upon himself over the course of the past week was bringing Chris three square meals a day, all prepared by one of the chefs on staff. His father had lost a lot of weight, and if he didn't eat, the short amount of time he had left to live would grow shorter.

Sometimes, however, Drew questioned how terrible that would really be, considering the low quality of a life his father was currently living.

Drew set the tray on the nightstand beside his father's bed. Chris stirred in his sleep. His head turned toward the stand, and his eyes cracked open.

"That smells good," he mumbled tiredly.

Drew cast him a quick glance.

"You're awake," he said.

"You're here."

"Yeah, I've been here for a week," Drew said dryly.

"I know." Chris smiled. "I still can't believe it."

"Neither can I," Drew murmured under his breath. "I brought you soup."

"Oh, good." Chris attempted to sit up. "I've always-" He stopped short, letting out a noticeably pained groan as he keeled over, his hand clutching the right side of his lower abdomen. Drew looked at him, alarmed.

"Something hurt?" he asked.

"Mmm," Chris hummed, neither a definitive 'yes' or a 'no.' Nevertheless, Drew sat on the edge of the bed and removed his father's hand before lifting up his shirt. What Drew saw caused his breath to catch: the spot of skin which pained his father was an ugly violet color, and it was accompanied by small, though well-defined bumps. Drew gently ran his fingers over them, causing Chris to wince.

"Olivia?" Drew's voice rose when he called her name, and within a minute, the said nurse appeared in the doorway. "Take a look at this," Drew went on, gesturing for her to come closer. She only gave the purple abnormality a throwaway glance before speaking.

"Oh that? That's nothing," she dismissed. "It's a bruise."

"That is _not_ a bruise," Drew contended.

"Your father has terminal skin cancer, Mr. Hayden," Olivia said tersely. "Some skin aberrations are to be expected."

"Are cancerous 'skin aberrations' normally bright _purple_?" Drew asked, irritated as she turned away.

She stopped.

"Like I said, Mr. Hayden," she said, "it's a bruise."

_**June 6th, 2009. Afternoon. Opelucid City.**_

"So he escaped down a ladder from his window?" Cilan inquired after listening intently to the discouraging news Leaf had delivered. "How is that possible? I thought his arm was broken."

"You can still climb with a broken arm," Iris pointed out. "I mean, yeah it's a lot more difficult and dangerous and painful, but it can be done."

"Would you have experience in this?" Paul asked gruffly.

"Yes, actually," Iris replied.

"Somehow, I should have expected that." Paul shook his head.

The three Champions, in addition to Ash, Misty, Cilan, Trip, Ritchie, and Gary, sat in the living room of the Opelucid Gym; Leaf and her group had only recently returned form the hospital after the doctors confirmed N had not formally checked out, and searches for the missing patient proved fruitless. Leaf's head was in her hands, and Ash cast her a guilty look.

"I'm really sorry, Leaf," he sympathized. "I should've known better. I'm feeling pretty dumb right now."

"No, _I'm_ sorry, Ash," Leaf said. "I'm sorry I dragged you into this when it ended up being a colossal waste of time."

"It wasn't," Ash insisted. "I, uh... I actually talked to him a little bit while we were in there! He didn't say much, but he did say a little about Team Plasma... and about..."

"And about what?" Misty pressed.

"Uh, never mind," Ash said, deciding it was better not to answer.

"But he talked to you about Team Plasma?" Leaf immediately perked up.

"Just a little," Ash said, not wanting her hopes to get too high.

"Well, what did he say?" Leaf asked.

"I thought you said you were going to be mad at Ash if he ended up talking to N about Team Plasma while we were gone," Misty remarked wryly.

"All things considered, not anymore," Leaf told her tersely. "What did he say, Ash?"

"Well, he explained why he was a part of Team Plasma," Ash began. "He doesn't like Pokémon Trainers; he think it's wrong that we battle with them and keep them inside Pokéballs. He likes Team Plasma because their goal is to liberate Pokémon."

"Yeah, we already knew Plasma hates the league and traditional Pokémon training," Paul groused.

"He said something else, though," Ash said. "He said that while he was raised by Pokémon, he was taken in by the leader of Team Plasma, Ghetsis."

"Ghetsis?" Leaf inquired.

"How do you spell that?" Gary said with a short laugh.

"There's more: N said Ghetsis made him the prince of Team Plasma," Ash added.

"The... prince of Team Plasma." Leaf's expression and tone showed doubt again.

"Yeah." Ash nodded.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked.

"I dunno," Ash replied with a shrug. "N didn't explain."

"Great," Leaf mumbled, sinking in her seat. "So I didn't just lose some grunt for Team Plasma, I lost its 'prince.'"

"That's probably why they sent someone to retrieve him," Cilan mused.

A brief silence followed, no one knowing what to say next. Finally, Iris cleared her throat.

"... So what now?" she asked.

"I don't know," Leaf sighed. "I guess... I can try to spell 'Ghetsis' and search for him in our system."

"What good will that do? If he's the leader of a group that opposes Pokémon training, then he's probably not registered as a trainer," Trip pointed out.

"I know." Leaf nodded. "I think without N, we're at a dead end." She sighed again before looking up at Ash. "Thank you, though, Ash. I'm sorry again. I'll try to book a flight for you back to Pallet tomorrow."

"Well, what're you going to do?" he asked.

"I... I'm actually staying here for a little while longer," she answered. "I want to be at the CIU's Q&amp;A event on the 18th, and since our match is the following Thursday, I'll just fly back on Wednesday. My Pokémon and I also need to do some training, and it might be nice to have Iris and Paul's teams as punching bags."

"You wish," Paul scoffed.

"I would love to battle," Iris said. "I would love to do _anything_."

"In that case, can I stay up until the Q&amp;A thing, too?" Ash asked. When Leaf gave him an odd look, he elaborated, "You don't have to keep paying for hotel rooms for any of us. We can move into the Pokémon Center no problem, since we all have trainer's licenses. The center is really nice anyway."

"Why do you want to stay here?" Ritchie inquired

"It's good for me training-wise, too," Ash explained. "In Pallet Town, there's only so much I can do, battling Ritchie or Gary or Brock over and over again... here, there's a Battle Club I could use. Plus... It's been cool to have the whole gang back together. May even said Drew's supposed to be back by the 18th."

Leaf stared at him for a moment. Then, her hand dropped from her temple to her side again.

"Sure," she finally agreed. "I don't have a problem with you staying here." She paused before asking, "Are your Kalosian friends okay with it, though?"

* * *

"Hey, I think I've found something," Clemont spoke up from one of the bench outside the store's dressing room, and Serena poked her head over the door of her stall.

"What is it?" she asked.

"It's video from the press conference that took place after the 'bus crash,' when they first said the fourteen were dead," Clemont said, standing and walking toward her. He tapped the screen on his phone and turned it toward her.

"_It has been a tense Holiday season this year_," a teal-haired male began speaking at the podium._ "A time that is supposed to be happy, to be filled with the love of family and friends, has been plagued with terror and uncertainty for many regarding the perceived violent attacks against gym leaders of the Napajian Pokémon League and community. We stand before you today to assure the people of the Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, Sinnoh, and Unova regions that all four divisions of the Pokémon Government Men Force have and are continuing to work tirelessly to ensure the safety of Pokémon and trainers alike._"

"_We intend to be transparent: The G-Men's investigations have led us to believe that the Pokémon crime organization, Team Rocket, is the behind the recent inter-regional string of attacks. We pinpointed who Team Rocket was targeting and brought them under our protection. However, we also must grievously admit that we failed to protect those in need due to an unforeseeable tragic accident, and by extension, have failed the very people we govern_."

"_Late last night, fourteen young trainers boarded a bus with an undisclosed destination that, we hoped and believed, would protect them from Team Rocket's forces. That bus ran over the edge of a 20-meter cliff and crashed at the bottom. The engine combusted, the bus caught fire, and left no survivors. The reason for this crash is still under the G-Men's investigation._"

Clemont hit pause and looked to Serena to gauge her reaction. She pursed her lips.

"We know that nothing in that is true, though," she said. "The bus crash and the deaths of that fourteen were made up. It was something the government here purposefully did to protect Ash and the others from Team Rocket."

"Well, I can't find much else from reliable sources. At least, not anything that references that one big interview with all fourteen kids," Clemont sighed. "I watched a couple clips of other interviews done with individuals in the group, but... they don't seem to say anything new, and they usually dodge the topic."

"Reliable sources?" Serena inquired.

"I mean, there are some conspiracy theory websites," he explained. "I don't know. I feel really weird looking into this, especially because it's Ash."

"I know. I'm sorry," Serena apologized. "I'd just like to stop feeling so out of the loop..."

"Here's an idea: Why don't we just _ask_ them what happened?" Bonnie suggested, stepping out of her dressing room in a new blue dress. "I mean, Cilan and Iris were willing to tell us about Silver when we asked! They're really nice people. Except Paul. He acts like there's a stick up his butt half the time."

"Even when we asked about Silver, I felt like they were holding back," Serena said. "And Gary made that comment about us missing a lot. ... I've been thinking about it more and more, and it just feels fishy to me."

"Fishy how?" Clemont asked.

"I don't know. I guess..." Serena pressed a finger to her chin, thinking. "Well, for one, I think Leaf might have actually been with them on that journey."

"Huh?" Bonnie blinked. "What gives you that idea? She wasn't in the interview, and they didn't say anything about her."

"Some of the things Gary has said makes it sound like she was there, though," Serena persisted. "Like, he said they got together right after they—as in, both of them—came back from that journey."

"Well, you don't know that." Bonnie shrugged. "Maybe Leaf and Gary had an astounding realization they were meant to be together while they were apart. You know, romantic stuff."

"Maybe... but she's also 'in' with them," Serena continued. "The Champion from Hoenn doesn't hang around like she does."

"Why does it even matter whether Leaf was there or not?" Bonnie asked. "If she was, why would they hide it?"

"_Exactly_. You don't hide something if there's nothing to hide," Serena pressed. "You know, if Leaf _was_ there, that would mean three of the four Champions in Napaj all came from that group. Iris and Paul alone is just a funny coincidence. Once it bumps up to three, though, it starts to feel kind of suspicious."

"I suppose," Clemont conceded. "I don't know if we should really be sticking our noses into this, though."

Serena frowned.

"I'd normally agree, but..." She shook her head. "Ash is supposed to battle Leaf soon, and I can't help but wonder... What is he getting himself into?"

Back on the bench where Clemont previously sat, Serena purse began vibrating.

"Will you grab my phone for me please, Clemont?" Serena politely asked. He nodded and retrieved the device out of her bag after some digging, handing it to her. She furrowed her eyebrows, looking at it.

"Who is it?" Bonnie asked.

"Ash, ironically," Serena answered as she pressed the button to receive the call.

* * *

"Oh no," Anthony groaned, peering inside a cardboard box he had just signed for. He covered his eyes and looked away before glancing inside it again. "Oh no..."

"What's the matter, Anthony?" Kelly asked, approaching her co-worker.

"I think I messed up real bad," he said, reaching into the box and pulling out a fistful of ballpoint pens. "I thought I only ordered a hundred of these for the office. I think they gave us a thousand. Oh man... I must have accidentally typed an extra zero. We're supposed to help raise money, and instead I'm wasting it..."

"Hey, hey, it's okay..." Kelly comforted him, patting him on the back. "Nine hundred extra pens? No problem. We'll sell them at the Q&amp;A thing for $0.50 each. Boom. $450. We actually make money."

"Will people buy these pens?" Anthony asked.

"Sure," Kelly assured him, plucking one out of his hands. "They have the cool logo Brianna designed on them, with the Beautifly and our acronym. Who wouldn't want one?"

"What's the matter?" May asked when she walked by and noticed that Anthony seemed to be in distress.

"Oh May, I'm sorry!" he wailed. May blinked; it wasn't an answer.

"Kelly?" May inquired, looking toward the other girl.

"Anthony thinks he accidentally ordered too many pens," Kelly explained in short.

"How many?"

"Nine hundred too many."

"Hm..." May hummed to herself as she ripped the receipt off the top of the box. Her eyes scanned it for a moment before she let out a laugh. "Anthony! I don't think it was you who made a mistake."

"You... don't?" Anthony sniffled.

"No," May said kindly, shaking her head. "The receipt only charges us for a hundred pens. I think _the company_ might have accidentally sent us extra pens."

"R-Really?" he stammered.

"Yeah." She nodded. "Don't get so down on yourself, Anthony. Even if you had accidentally ordered a thousand pens, it wouldn't be the end of the world."

"I-I guess so." Anthony smiled again. "Thanks May."

"See? You were worried for nothing," Kelly said. "Come on, let's go get something to eat."

"Okay." Anthony's disposition brightened considerably as they headed off together. May let out a relieved sigh. She crumpled up the receipt and tossed it into a nearby trash bin.

"Did they really send us nine-hundred extra pens?" Brianna, who was sitting nearby, asked.

"No," May tacitly replied. "I just knew Anthony would beat himself up over it forever if he thought it was his fault. Like I said, though, it's not the end of the world."

Surprise briefly crossed Brianna's face. Then, she melted into a smile.

"You know, you're really good at this, May," she complimented.

"At what?" May asked.

"I don't know... This being a leader thing, I guess!" Brianna answered. "You keep a really good head about you."

May drew back. She hadn't expected the praise.

"Wow, um, thanks Brianna!" she exclaimed.

"Hey, May?" Kenny called from a couple desks away. His hand was pressed over the receiver of a phone. "There's a call for you on Line 3."

"Oh, okay!" May then turned to Brianna, saying, "Sorry, we can talk more later!"

May headed to the nearest phone, picked it up, and pressed the flashing button.

"Hello?" she inquired. "This is May Maple speaking."

"_Hello,_" a gruff male voice heartily greeted. "_I was actually lookin' to talk to the campaign manager, Drew Hayden, but the young man I talked to said he wasn't in the office and that you're next-in-charge._"

"That's right," May cheerfully confirmed. "Who is this?"

"_This is Don George,_" he answered. "_I manage the Don George Nimbasa Town Stadium, where the Don George Battle Club holds the Don George Club Battle Tournament. My cousin, Don George, told me the CIU is looking to host a contest there in July. I was wondering if you'd like to come by this Thursday to check out the venue and set a date._"

Her breath caught. Her lips twitched into a smile, then widened into a grin.

"Yes..." she said breathlessly. "Yes! I'd love to!"

* * *

Paul dragged himself into the kitchen when he returned to his apartment. Although it was still not long past mid-day, he felt exhausted, and he figured eating something might help. As he opened the refrigerator door to retrieve the milk, however, a thought occurred to him, and he immediately shut the door again. He reached into back pocket and woke up the screen to check the date.

Then, he dialed a number. As is rang, Paul pulled up one of the stools to the counter and sat down.

"_Hello, you've reached the Rebolledo residence,_" Reggie greeted when he picked up.

"Hey," Paul said flatly. "It's me."

"_Paul?_" Reggie inquired. "_I've been meaning to call you since yesterday._"

"Why's that?"

"_I heard that you and Dawn split up,_" Reggie replied. "_Is that true?_"

Paul inwardly groaned.

"It is," he confirmed. "Where did you hear that?"

"_From Maylene._"

"How did Maylene know?"

"_I think she heard it from Solidad?_"

"How did Solid- you know what, never mind," Paul gave up with an exasperated sigh, deciding it wasn't worth investigating. He supposed it was good in a way; it meant he didn't have to break the news to Reggie himself.

"_What happened?_" Reggie asked.

"What do you mean, 'What happened?'"

"_Why did you and Dawn break up?_" Reggie clarified.

"The relationship had run its course. There's nothing more to it," Paul dismissed.

"_Run its course? Paul, you and Dawn have been together since you came back to Sinnoh two years ago, and you were in an off-and-on casual relationship for years before then,_" Reggie said seriously. "_Plus, I thought it was looking pretty serious when you said you were getting an apartment in Opelucid together..._"

"A mistake, obviously," Paul grumbled. "You know, I didn't call to talk to you about my relationships. I called to talk to my niece."

"_To Cedar?_"

"It's her birthday, isn't it?"

"_It is... I didn't think you would remember,_" Reggie admitted.

"I remember important things," Paul said gruffly.

A short pause followed.

"_All right,_" Reggie agreed, sounding happier. "_Let me get her._"

"_Uncle Paul?_" The sweet, young, though still somewhat slurry voice of his niece finally patched through, and Paul's lip twitched into a strange kind of smile, the first he had shown in a while—and no one could see it.

"Hi, Cedar," Paul greeted, his voice just a touch gentler. "I wanted to tell you happy birthday."

"_I'm three,_" she declared.

"I know."

"_I'm big._"

"You are," Paul affirmed. "Is your mother making you a cake?"

"_Yeah!_" Cedar sounded delighted at the prospect.

"Do you know what it looks like?" he asked.

"_It's pink,_" she said shortly.

"Is pink your favorite color?"

"_Yeah._"

"Make sure not to eat too much and get sick," Paul advised.

"_Okay. Bye-bye!_"

Paul let out an exasperated, though also amused breath. Cedar reminded him of himself, in a way. She liked to keep conversations short, and she didn't hesitate to end them when she was done talking.

She did seem happier than him, though.

Reggie soon returned to the phone.

"_I forgot to tell you: Maylene and I have news,_" he said. "_She had her ultrasound just the other day. You're going to have a nephew now, too._"

"She's having a boy?" Paul raised his eyebrows.

"_That's right._"

"I'm sure you're excited."

"_We are. Maylene was pulling for a boy, actually,_" Reggie replied with a laugh. "_I like having a daughter, though, so we'll see how I manage a son._"

"You'll do fine."

"_I hope so._" Reggie paused before adding, "_Anyway, thanks for calling. Cedar loves hearing from you._"

"It's nothing," Paul said. "I'll talk to you later."

Just as Paul was about to end the call, however, his brother spoke again: "_Wait-_"

Paul pressed the phone back to his ear.

"What is it?" he asked.

"_I just want you to know, Paul,_" Reggie began carefully, "_if there's anything on your mind, I'm always here to talk to you._"

Paul stayed silent for a long moment. Then, he sighed and brushed his fingers through his hair.

"I know."

* * *

"I can't believe I let the _one_ thing that could have helped us get somewhere with Team Plasma escape," Leaf said with a loud sigh as she splashed water on her face, and the promptly dried herself with a hand towel. "I'm such an idiot."

Gary, who was dressing himself in sleepwear in the bedroom, cast her a deadpan look through the open bathroom door.

"You're still going on about that?" he asked.

"I'm just frustrated," Leaf said as she came back into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the mattress. "I feel like this past week has been for nothing. And it's worse, because of Ash's involvement. He and I have been working too closely."

Gary rolled his eyes as he pulled his shirt over his head.

"Want me to let you in on a secret, Leaf?" he asked, turning to face her. "Your strict adherence to that ridiculous impartiality clause—while, in a way, admirable, I guess—was and is completely pointless. No matter what, if Ash wins, the match will be questioned. You and Misty pretending you weren't Ash's friend for a month wasn't going to erase years of history. People are going to look at your match, and they're going to see two people who grew up in the same town, who were taught by the same professor, who left on their journeys on the same day—and they're going to know it's personal."

Leaf was silent. She folded her arms, briefly breaking their locked gazes.

"Even if that history wasn't there, even if it was unknown, which it isn't," Gary continued, "people can look at you and Ash today and know there's a connection. Misty and I are billed as a couple of Ash's closest friends. We have been since we stopped Giovanni. I'm dating you, and Misty's on your Elite Four. People aren't dumb. They know that."

"I know. I just..." Leaf shook her head. "If Ash wins, I don't want his tenure as Champion to be doomed the way Alder doomed Iris."

"Iris isn't doomed."

"She has a hell of a climb ahead of her."

"That's a different thing than being 'doomed.' Shake off Lance's pessimism, will you?" Gary sighed. "Iris will overcome her issues. Ash will, too, if needed."

"But that's... agh!" Leaf fell back onto the sheets. "It's a distraction. It's holding us back from what we need to do. This whole mess with Team Plasma is just one giant roadblock I need to clear before I can finish what I need to do—what Paul, Iris, and I need to do. If Ash wins and he faces the same type of criticism as Iris, the 'Ooh, but does he really deserve his title?' kind of thing, that'll have to be fixed, too, before anything can get done. Except I won't be here, and I don't know if-" She stopped short, seemingly unwilling to finish her thought.

"You don't know if what?" Gary pressed.

"... I don't know if Ash, Iris, and Paul could do it without me," Leaf finished, turning on her side. "I know that sounds awful and really self-centered, but considering the trainwreck that happened in the Unova Championship office while I wasn't here, it's what I'm worried about."

Gary pursed his lips.

"You _do_ need to cut Iris and Paul some slack," he said, sitting beside her, though she was still turned away from him. "Drayden and Cynthia didn't try to shape them into cookie-cutter perfect Champions like Lance did with you."

"Yeah..."

"If Ash wins," Gary began, "it'll be messy, and there'll be damages to pay, but he'll be the first the win his title the way it should be done in forty years. And that's worth something. Even if he doesn't turn out to be the perfect Champion, the one Lance wanted." He smirked before adding, "Then again, neither are you.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Leaf turned her head and glared at him.

Gary laughed.

"I mean, you lost your key to Team Plasma over _Triple A batteries_."

.

.

.


	11. X: In Which Dawn Breaks Her Silence

.

.

.

Chapter X: In Which Dawn Breaks her Silence

.

.

_**June 11th, 2009. Morning. Opelucid City.**_

"Here are your copies," Burgundy said after walking back into Cilan's office, holding out a stack of papers to him.

"Excellent. Thank you," Cilan replied with a smile, accepted the stack. His eyes scanned the first sheet, making sure everything was in order. He then looked back up at her and asked, "I'm presuming you did something similar to this when you took this class?"

"A personality traits chart?" Burgundy inquired. He nodded and she said, "Yes, but it wasn't coupled with an observation session. It was a multiple-choice matching type of thing."

"Ah. It was the same for me," Cilan said. "The APC only provides Pokémon for five of observation sessions in this class—four for practice, one for the final exam—which is why I asked students to bring their own for today and next Thursday, so we could have more. I don't think four practice sessions adequately prepares students."

"_Oui._ I'd agree," Burgundy mumbled. "I was scared I was going to fail this class when I took it."

"So was I," Cilan admitted.

"You were?" Burgundy blinked.

"Why do you think I would want to add two more practice sessions?" Cilan asked with a wry smile. He paused and flicked over his wrist to check his watch. "It's almost 10:00 a.m. We should get going."

"Right," Burgundy agreed as Cilan stood up. She followed him out of his office and into the hallway, toward their classroom; yet, her breath temporarily stopped when she realized who was coming from the opposite direction.

"Off to class, you two?" Ricard asked with a false cheerfulness, stopping to speak with them. "Or are you teaching today? You're both so young and fresh, it's hard to believe you're on staff."

"Good morning, Mr. Nouveau," Cilan tactily greeted, brushing over the question.

"Good morning, Mr. Griffith," Ricard replied, "and to you, Ms. Myers."

Burgundy nodded in acknowledgement but said nothing.

"Really? No polite salutation in return?" Ricard asked, feigning offense.

"Leave her alone, Ricard," Cilan said calmly, though firmly. "Now if you'll excuse us."

He curved around Ricard, and Burgundy stayed on his heels, keeping her head facing forward, so she didn't have to see the disgruntled look upon Ricard's face.

* * *

"_So who's going with you to see the stadium?_"

"Just Zoey, I think," May answered, leaning against the car door with her cellphone pressed her ear and her free arm wrapped around herself. She stood in the parking lot outside the building where the CIU office was located.

"_Is Zoey driving?_" Drew asked.

"Yeah! She said she wanted to drive."

"_Good._" Drew sounded relieved. "_I don't want to pay for a damaged rental car._"

"Okay, I've only gotten into _five_ car accidents in my life, and one of them wasn't even my fault," May said, rolling her eyes. "I'm not as terrible a driver as you seem to think, geez."

"_I fear for my life every time you're at the wheel._"

"Don't you have something else to do?" May asked with an exasperated sigh.

"_Yes, actually,_" Drew replied. "_It's almost noon where I'm at, so I need to get lunch to my father._"

"Oh! How's that going?"

_"Eh,_" Drew grunted. "_Same old, same old._"

"Mmm..." May hummed thoughtfully. "Well, I'll be sure to send lots of pictures to you!"

"_Great. I look forward to it,_" Drew said. "_Love you._"

"I love you, too!" May smiled. "I'll talk to you later!"

As May hung up, Zoey came around from the front of the car to meet her.

"So, are you ready to go?" Zoey asked with a grin, spinning the keys around her finger.

"Yup!" May cheerfully answered. She opened the passenger door and slid inside while Zoey returned to the driver's seat. Zoey stuck the keys into the ignition, but she looked up when she heard a knock on her window. Kenny, Barry, and Dawn were outside.

"You guys drive safe, okay?" Kenny poked his head inside the car when Zoey rolled down the window.

"The trip's only an hour and a half. There's no reason to worry," Zoey dismissed with a laugh.

"Still, I think Drew'd hate to attend the funeral of his father and his girlfriend in the same month," Kenny said.

"Thanks for that morbid thought," Zoey remarked dryly. She then inclined her head toward Dawn, asking, "You sure you don't want to come, Dawn?"

"I'm fine," Dawn said with a wave of her hand. "I've got stuff to do here anyway."

"You should at least call Ash and see if he'll come have lunch with you guys," May suggested. "Oh! Maybe his Kalosian friends will come, too!"

"Yeah, I'd love to meet up with Ash and friends again!" Barry exclaimed.

"Do it to it then." Zoey finally turned on the engine and slid on her sunglasses before giving her friends a final salute. "We'll see you guys later."

_**June 11th, 2009. Noon. La Rousse City.**_

Chris was, for once, awake when Drew dutifully came into his room carrying a tray of food, as he had been for nearly two weeks by then. Yet, Drew said nothing and avoided eye contact with his father, who was propped up against some large pillows and had a book in his hands. Yet, Chris's gaze was locked on his son rather than his novel as Drew slid the tray onto the nightstand.

Chris cleared his throat.

"Who are you always talking to?" he asked.

Drew cast him a strange look, not entirely sure what he meant.

"Your hospice nurses, unfortunately," he answered after a moment.

"No, not them," Chris said. "I always hear you out in the hallway, talking to someone. Who is it?"

"... May?"

"Who's May?" Chris asked.

"My girlfriend."

"I didn't know you had a girlfriend," Chris said, setting his book down on his lap.

"If you paid an ounce of attention to anything I did over the past ten years, you probably would," Drew mumbled bitterly. "Even if you didn't read tabloids like Coordinators Weekly."

"Do you have a picture?"

Drew pursed his lips. By then, he had realized his father was only looking for a way to strike up a conversation, hence the unusual icebreaker question. Still, he felt compelled to oblige.

"Uh, yeah... hang on," Drew said, reaching into his back pocket to pull out his cell phone. He scrolled through his phone's camera roll before picking a photo and handing the device to his father. "Here you go."

Chris stared at the screen intently, taking in the small visual details—her smile, her dark blue eyes, her ash brown hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. Finally, he remarked, "She's very pretty," as he held the phone back out to his son.

Drew's lips twitched into a smile

"It's my favorite photo of her, actually," he admitted, shaving off the contempt in his tone as he took the device and set it aside. "It was taken last year, on her 21st birthday."

"How did you meet her?"

"She and I have known each other since we were kids," Drew answered. "She got into coordinating about a year after I did, and we met a couple weeks before a big contest. She and I have been competing against each other ever since then."

"And how long have you been together?"

"A little over seven years."

"Really?" Chris raised an eyebrow. "That's a long time to be with another person for someone your age."

His remark rubbed Drew the wrong way, and he turned his head and said, "May and I know we want to be together, even if we did start dating while we were teenagers."

"I wasn't suggesting that," Chris contended. "Do you plan on marrying her, then?"

The question caught Drew off guard.

"I..." He was unsure of what to say. "Uh, yeah, at some point, I guess."

"Why not now?" Chris inquired.

"... She's still pretty young," Drew said. "She's still only 21."

"Your mother was only 21 when we got married," Chris pointed out.

"Yeah, and that turned out great for everyone involved," Drew said dryly.

"Your mother fell ill and died. That has nothing to do with her marrying me when she was 21." Chris paused, leaning back into his pillows. "I never told you how your mother and I met, did I?"

"No, you didn't talk a lot about Mom," Drew replied, averting his eyes once more.

"Kara was a freshman in La Rousse University when I was a senior." Chris smiled as he reminisced. "I had already been running an unofficial battle club since my sophomore year, before the Battle Tower was conceived, and she came one evening with some friends to enter a weekend tournament. We ended up talking, and things went from there. She was extraordinarily talented, your mother. A great trainer, and she was kind and funny and smart, too."

"Funny how she ended up with you then."

Chris frowned, a twinge of guilt showing his expression.

"... She was the one who encouraged me to invest in building the Battle Tower," Chris continued anyway after a moment. "I had always charged entrance for the tournaments I hosted in college, and they grew to be so popular and well-attended, that I had acquired a small fortune. I took her advice and, well... look at the Battle Tower today. I was destroyed when she died, though." He lifted his eyed toward Drew again. "But at least I had you."

Drew was silent.

"The Battle Tower was so important to your mother and I, so I wanted it to be important to you, too," Chris went on. "I wanted you to take over the Battle Tower someday."

"I didn't," Drew said tersely.

"I know." Chris stayed quiet for a moment longer before adding, "I'm glad you ended up going on your own journey and meeting May."

Drew recoiled back, unsure of what to say in response to that, or even what he should think of it.

"You really ought to marry her," Chris decided. "You may think 21 is too young to get married—but speaking as someone who lost your mother too soon, and as someone who doesn't have much time left himself—life is too short. I've made a lot of mistakes, and I've done things I'm not proud of for the sake of the business—and I've realized now that it doesn't matter. While the Battle Tower is still deeply important to me, it should have never been the most important thing. All it can bring me now are the world's best doctors, and even that won't save me."

"Dad, I don't think Ana and Olivia are all that great of doctors," Drew said dryly. "And as much I appreciate you trying to pass on your fatherly advice, I think you're ten years too late for it to mean much to me."

"All the same..." Chris reached out and grasped his son's hand. "I'm sorry. Despite everything, I hope you realize that I've always loved you."

Drew pulled his hand away. His father, Drew realized, had been waiting for this. He had been waiting for a chance to hook him into a conversation long enough to say this. In fact, Drew wondered if the sole reason why his father had told Elijah to bring his son back to La Rousse was to apologize... even if it could never make up for what happened, or erase the bitter feelings Drew held.

"I..." Drew trailed off. "I'm going out for a little bit. I've been in this mansion for too long."

He rose up and quickly left the room, passing by Olivia as she walked inside for one of her check-ups. Chris let out a long sigh as he watched Drew disappear from sight.

"Olivia?" he inquired when she approached.

"Yes, Mr. Rogers?" Olivia politely replied.

He locked eyes with her as he said, "I'm willing to talk to my lawyer now."

_**June 11th, 2009. Late Morning. Opelucid City.**_

"So how does this work anyway?" Serena asked, staring bewildered at the touch-screen machine.

"Oh! It's pretty easy," Ash said, moving away from his station to help her. "Just slide in your trainer card into the thingy and type in your phone number." Serene followed his instructions, pulling her Trainer ID out of her wallet and sliding it through the reader. Her picture appeared on the screen, along with a touch keyboard for her to type her number. She did so and pressed the flashing 'enter' button that appeared.

Ash grinned and continued, "Then put all the Pokémon you have on hand into the six Pokéball spaces and press 'Scan.'" Serena dug though her bag again, carefully pulling out and placing all of her Pokéballs in the appropriate position before tapping the said button. Each sphere briefly lit up as it was scanned, before digital renderings of all her Pokémon appeared on the screen.

"Now, your entire team is in the computer!" Ash said. "So now you can click 'Search' and look through all the trainers here, and if you press on their picture, it'll send them a message that says you wanna battle! Or, you can click 'random matchup' to be paired with someone in the building."

"This is a pretty nifty system," Clemont said. "It would be cool if they had something like it in Kalos."

"It would be cool if they had in _Kanto_," Gary scoffed.

"Maybe Don George will take a page out of Contesta's book and take the business outside of its region of origin," Misty remarked as the machine scanned her Pokémon. "I'm in."

"Me too!" Bonnie said excitedly. "Now to find a trainer..." She tapped on the 'search' button and typed in a name. Misty's phone rang in her bag, and she fished it out.

"Bonnie? You're challenging me to a battle?" Misty looked up at the young blonde curiously, after seeing the message she had received.

"Yeah! Of course I am!" Bonnie proudly replied.

"Bonnie..." Clemont began gently. "Don't you think you might be a bit, um, outmatched?"

"Oh, who cares?" Bonnie dismissed. "What other times in my life will I get to say I battled an Elite Four member? None, since you're probably not ever going to be one."

Clemont glowered at her, but Misty couldn't help but laugh.

"All right, we can battle," she agreed. "But I'm warning you, I won't go easy on you."

"I wouldn't want it any other way!" Bonnie looked determined.

Ash's phone suddenly rang, too, and he scampered to grab it in his excitement.

"Do you also already have a match, Ash?" Clemont asked.

"Nah, it's a text message from Dawn." Ash shook his head, but he didn't look a a upset at all. "How would you guys feel about having lunch at the CIU today?"

* * *

Leaf was sitting alone in the living room, her eyes drawn toward the television screen—it was Day 1 of Barret Dunstan's trial—when Iris emerged from her room late that morning with a Ganlon berry in her hand. She cast a quick glance at the screen before finding a seat near the Indigo Champion and taking a bite out of her fruit.

"Did I miss anything?" she asked.

"No." Leaf shook her head. "It's just started." She promptly reached for the remote and turned the television off; Iris appeared puzzled by this move.

"You don't _have_ to turn it off because I'm here," Iris insisted.

"No point in watching it anyway," Leaf dismissed. "Where've you been all morning?"

"Bedridden," Iris answered shortly. "I woke up not feeling well."

"Are you taking your supplements?"

"Yes," Iris replied tiredly, drawing out the 's.' "This is just run-of-the-mill morning sickness, nothing more."

"Mm," Leaf intoned, but she said nothing else.

"So where is everyone?" Iris asked after a moment. "I know Cilan's in class, but I kind of expected Ash and company to come around by now."

"They're off at the Battle Club," Leaf explained. "Even Gary. I think Ritchie might have gone to hang out with Trip."

"Well, gee, I wish I could've gone," Iris grumbled.

"I think you would've obliterated the competition," Leaf half-laughed.

"I'm just looking for something to do," Iris said, shrugging. "Were you serious about wanting to battle me to train for your match against Ash? Because I was when I said I would be happy to battle you."

"I was," Leaf tacitly replied. "Do you want to battle?"

"_Yes,_" Iris practically begged. "Please."

Leaf's lips cracked into a smirk.

"All right," she agreed. "A few things first, though."

"What?"

Leaf paused to think of how she should word her response.

"I know you're bored," she finally began. "I would be, too, if I was holed up in my house for a month. And so I was thinking... _wow_, it's been a month since that attempt. Plus two weeks since we announced you were pregnant."

"Your point?" Iris asked.

"I think we need to get you back into the public eye," Leaf answered, "and I know where you should make your first appearance: The CIU's Q&amp;A event next week."

"Wait, you're serious?" Iris perked up.

"Dead serious," Leaf said. "And on that note, we should get the ball rolling on announcing Georgia as your new Elite Four member. Has she faxed in her paperwork to Mr. Goodshow?"

"Yeah... yeah, she has, I think!" Iris was grinning now.

"Good." Leaf smiled, too. "Then you should call Trip and let him know he needs to set up a time with Georgia to take profile shots. I'll call Paul."

"For what?"

"If you're going to show up to the Q&amp;A event in support of Unovan contests, then you ought to have your check into the CIU," Leaf said, standing up. "I'll make him take it to their office today."

"And then we can battle?"

Leaf let out a chuckle.

"And then we can battle," she affirmed.

* * *

Watching students work with Pokémon was one of Cilan's favorite parts of his job. He could try his hardest to engage students in lecture and experience some minor success, but it was nothing compared to what hands-on experience could accomplish. Allowing students to work with Pokémon, he thought, was what brought the theories and discussions they had in class to life, and it was wonderful to see his students' eyes light up when the material they had spent so much time studying finally made sense—the 'aha' moment, as he privately liked to call it (He had once used the term in Iris's presence and she'd laughed and called him cheesy).

Moreover, Cilan could tell his students enjoyed class sessions that involved Pokémon the most—and why wouldn't they? Pokémon made up half the Pokémon Connoisseur title. They wouldn't be in the program if they didn't love Pokémon.

"Professor Griffith, can you help me with this question?" one of his students inquired as Cilan passed by him and his Deino, who was gnawing at an itch on its foot.

"Sure," Cilan answered with a smile. "What's the problem, Phillip?"

"I'm stuck on this question about diet," Phillip replied, tapping his pencil against his paper and clipboard. "My Deino eats food that's good for Dragon-types... I don't know if that really answers the question, though..."

"Ah," Cilan began, understanding the issue. "It's not so much _what_ your Pokémon eats as it is _how_ it eats it."

"Huh? I'm not sure I understand," Phillip admitted. "How's that gonna help everyone else in class when they read this and try to figure out my Pokémon's Nature?"

"To identify a Pokémon's Nature, you need to be able to pick out certain behaviors in a Pokémon that might suggest one Nature over another," Cilan explained. "Dinnertime can often reveal a lot about a Pokémon's personality, which you, the trainer, can see, but your fellow students cannot. This is why it's good for connoisseurs to ask trainers the kind of questions you see on that worksheet. No one knows a Pokémon better than their trainer, and no one knows your Deino better than you."

Cilan paused to pet the Deino, which he seemed to appreciate.

"Think of it as a kind of science," Cilan went on. "The trainer is giving the connoisseur the information, and the connoisseur is interpreting that information. For the purposes of this activity, everyone in class is writing down the behaviors and personality traits they can find within their own Pokémon for their peers to interpret next Thursday. Don't worry, on Tuesday, we'll learn more about which behaviors correlate with which Natures. Eating habits can be a huge indicator."

"Oh! Okay!" Phillip nodded. "Well... I guess Deino eats pretty fast. So fast that sometimes he makes himself sick."

"See? You _do_ know," Cilan encouraged. "Write that down. It'll help your fellow students next week."

"Thanks Professor Griffith! I will!"

As soon as Cilan moved away to check up on the rest of the class, he was approached by another student—Karina.

"Professor Griffith?" she inquired shyly, getting his attention.

"Yes, Karina?"

"I was wondering if you could help me decide something about my Pokémon," she asked, fiddling with her skirt.

"Certainly," Cilan replied. "Where's your station?"

"Over there." Cilan looked where she pointed, and a chill ran down his spine. On top of her table sat a Purrloin, cleaning itself.

"Ah ha..." Cilan let out a nervous laugh. "Ms. Myers?"

Burgundy looked up from another part of the classroom, confused that he had called her name. She quickly finished up helping the student with whom she stood before approaching.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Why don't you help Karina with her Purrloin?" he suggested.

"Me?" Burgundy looked suspicious. "Why me?"

"I think you would be more qualified to help than I would."

"O-_kay_," Burgundy dragged out the word but nevertheless followed Karina back to her station.

"So what seems to be the issue?" Burgundy asked, bending down to look at the Dark-type. Purrloin stared at her half-lidded lazy gaze, flicking its tail back and forth.

"I can't tell whether Purrloin has a Calm or Relaxed Nature," Karina said.

"Karina, we're not identifying Natures until next Thursday," Burgundy reminded.

"I know," Karina conceded. "But I already finished filling out my chart, and so I decided to look ahead in the book to figure out which Nature she might be based on what I wrote down, but I'm stuck. The Calm and Relaxed Natures are so similar, and a lot of her behaviors could fit into both."

"Hm," Burgundy hummed, thinking. "It's true, on the outside, Calm and Relaxed Natures can look pretty similar. So you have to go beyond just personality and start thinking about how they do in battle."

"What do you mean?" Karina asked. "Could you be more specific about the battling part?"

Burgundy mentally stumbled. She paused long enough to wrack her brain, making sure she had her facts straight.

"A Calm Nature... tends to give a Pokémon greater Special Defense but less Attack power," Burgundy began, recalling the information. "A Relaxed Pokémon has greater Defense but a lower Speed. Special Defense and Defense are hard to tell apart, so I would take a look at the Attack and Speed of Purrloin." She inwardly breathed a sigh of relief, glad (and half-impressed) she had managed to remember that without stealing a glance at the textbook.

"Oh..." Karina trailed off. "Well... Purrloin is a little bit on the slow side, so I guess she probably has a Relaxed Nature!"

"There you go."

"Thanks, Ms. Myers," Karina said. "I really appreciate it."

Burgundy smiled and straightened up, pushing one of her curls out of her face.

"It's no problem."

* * *

"Okay, but listen to this one," Trip began, his PokéPad held firmly in his hands. "A trainer was attacked by its own Pokémon outside Icirrus City today. The trainer, 16-year-old Erin Willis, sustained minor injuries when her Darumaka bit her on the wrist. Quote, 'I don't understand what caused this behavior out of Darumaka,' Willis said. 'He's normally a big sweetheart. He's been acting strange since he got roughed up by a wild Houndoom a couple days ago,' end quote."

Ritchie sat across from Trip on the sofa, leaning his head on his hand as he listened to his friend read the article aloud.

"Okay," was all Ritchie said when he finished.

"Okay? Okay what?"

"I don't know what you want me to say, Trip," Ritchie sighed. "It's a very brief article."

"There are a couple more lines, but it just talks about how Darumaka was quarantined for study," Trip said. "Even if it is brief, it is the _thirteenth_ Pokémon-on-trainer attack in Unova since that Minccino."

"Trip, I think Pokémon-on-trainer are way more common than most of us think," Ritchie shrugged. "I've been bitten and shocked by Sparky a few times. It happens."

"But you've never had your face disfigured by any of your Pokémon," Trip contended.

"That was the first one with the Minccino," Ritchie said calmly, "which _was_ unusual. But have any of these other trainers been hospitalized? There are lot of talks about bad bites and maybe some stitches, but that's not the same. I think the Minccino incident just gave everyone a heightened awareness that, yeah, sometimes Pokémon attack their trainers, and now it's trending in the news."

"The trainers said her Darumaka had been acting strange since it battled a Houndoom," Trip reminded.

"So? A lot of Pokémon can get their pride wounded after losing."

"There was a Houndoom that attacked its trainer and escaped before it could be sent to a rehabilitation center a couple weeks ago," Trip went on.

"Who's to say it's the same Houndoom?" Ritchie asked.

"Houndoom's a Johtoan Pokémon."

"Sure, but it can be found in the wild here, too," Ritchie said. "I think you might be overthinking this, Trip."

Trip looked ready to retort again, but instead, he sighed.

"Maybe you're right," he conceded.

Ritchie frowned.

"You know, Ash and the others went to the battle club today," he said. "Maybe we can join them?"

"Yeah, we can," Trip mumbled. He turned to grab his Pokéballs off his desk, but his cell phone rang before he could get to them. He pulled it out of his back pocket, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Iris... ?" he inquired, answering.

"_Hey,_" she greeted. "_Why do you sound so surprised?_"

"Because you're actually using your phone," Trip said dryly.

"_Well, that's because I have surprising news._" Iris was undeterred. "_I actually have something for you to do._"

_**June 11th, 2009. Afternoon. La Rousse City.**_

"Elijah?" Olivia inquired as she stepped into the miniature library contained within the Rogers estate, where she knew she would find him. Elijah looked up from where he was sitting, his eyes leaving the text _The Symbiosis Between Pokémon and Humans_. She continued, "Mr. Rogers has spoken with his lawyer privately and agreed to sign off on his will."

"Excellent," Elijah said, closing the book. "What great news. We can rest easy now."

"I can't."

"Why not, my dear?" Elijah raised an eyebrow.

"What if he changes his mind?" Olivia asked.

"Why would he?" Elijah shrugged. "I think Mr. Hayden has not done much to veil is obvious disdain for his father. Mr. Rogers has no reason to reverse his decision."

"I'd like to not take any risks," Olivia persisted.

Elijah stared, pursing his lips. Then, he let out a sigh as he stood up.

"Very well," he gave in. He moved toward one of the bookcases, pulling out a text. He set the book aside before retrieving a small vial containing a translucent, lavender liquid that he had kept hidden. "If you must insist on further muddying my conscience..." Elijah turned to Olivia, handing the vial to her. "Take this."

"More of the same thing?" Olivia shook her head. "This isn't the time for your science experiments."

Elijah's lips twisted into a menacing smile, one that sent a chill up even Olivia's spine.

"This amount, I imagine, will prove lethal," he said.

* * *

There were few places Drew had imagined he would never visit again in his life.

One was his father's mansion. Yet, it was only two weeks earlier that he found himself walking through his family's rose garden once again.

The other was the La Rousse Battle Tower. As a child, Drew remembered, his father took him to the Battle Tower often, letting Drew spectate the often heated battles that occurred on every floor. Admittedly, it was something in which Drew found mild enjoyment, if only because it was a break from intense studying schedule. The visits to the Battle Tower were reminders of what he was one day supposed to have.

Of course, when he saw his first contest on television, he realized he didn't want it anymore (if he had ever wanted it at all). Yet somehow, for some reason, he felt compelled to walk through the doors into the tower that day, his legs carrying him to the registration desk themselves.

"Good afternoon, sir," one of the women manning the desk greeted. "How may I help you today?"

"Hi... I'm wondering if there are any tournaments I can entire tonight?" Drew asked cautiously. "Single battle. I don't have a partner."

"You're in luck," the woman said, smiling. "We are actually holding a 3-on-3 Single Battle Tournament tonight. Would you like to enter?"

"How much to register?"

"The entrance fee is $15," the woman answered. "Or, $12 if you make a $5 donation to cancer research. Would you like to donate?"

Drew's lips tightened as he stared at her wordlessly for a long moment.

"Yeah," he finally agreed, pulling out his wallet. "Why not?"

_**June 11th, 2009. Noon. Opelucid City.**_

"So May and Zoey went to check out the Club Battle stadium in Nimbasa Town, huh?" Ash asked as he masterfully hooked a large glob of noodles on his chopsticks and brought them to his mouth. After having his share, he let Pikachu take a bite, too. It was lunch break at the CIU, and most of the staff had left to grab food—only Dawn, Barry, and Kenny had stayed behind so they could meet with Ash's group and enjoy a meal together in the office.

"That's right!" Barry answered, enthused. "We're wanna hold a big contest to get everyone hyped! I mean, I'm hyped, and I'm not even a coordinator!"

Ash laughed before adding, "I'm hyped, too! I'm kind of disappointed that I probably won't be around by then. I totally would've wanted to enter. I'll have to catch it on TV or something."

"Well, you never know," Dawn began with a wry smile. "Win or lose the match against Leaf, maybe you'll want to come back here just so you can enter."

"It might be weird to have the Champion-in-waiting entering a public event like that," Trip pointed out.

"But it would draw in a _huge_ crowd." Kenny grinned.

"I think you'll already get a big crowd," Misty said. "Contests coming to Unova is a pretty big deal."

"To be honest, I'm surprised they're not already here," Serena began distractedly as she struggled to use her own chopsticks; they kept slipping from her fingers. "My mom and I have watched contests on TV before. I thought they were everywhere in Napaj."

"Me too," Clemont said. "Why aren't they already in Unova?"

"Mr. Contesta, the APC's president, has tried several times to establish a branch here," Dawn explained. "But the person who was Unova Champion before Iris wasn't able to get it going. Which is a good thing for Iris, I guess."

"I'm disappointed we're not gonna be here, too," Bonnie said, pouting. "I also would've liked to enter it."

"You certainly are ambitious," Gary mumbled, twirling one of his chopsticks through his food.

"Hey, remember that I came _close_ to beating Misty today," Bonnie reminded, shaking a finger at him.

"Really? How close?" Kenny asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I took out one of her three Pokémon," Bonnie answered proudly. "I consider that good since she's an Elite Four member."

"I'd say it is," Dawn said, smiling. "I haven't battled Misty in a while, but I don't know if I would fare that well in a 3-on-3."

"I wouldn't write you off that fast, Dawn," Misty said with a smirk.

"I wouldn't either."

Dawn's chest tightened, recognizing the voice. The rest of the group went silent, too, as Paul made an unexpected appearance in the office. His gaze briefly connected with Dawn's, but then he turned his head away. Still, in that short instant, she saw a lot—his dulled eyes, the darkening skin beneath them, his mussed hair—the appearance of exhaustion, the cause of which she could only guess.

She eventually looked away, too.

"Uh... Hi, Paul!" Barry was one of the first to jump up, being one of thew few who seemed at all happy to see him. "What'cha doin' here?"

"I'm just dropping off a check," Paul said, holding a closed envelope out to him. "The Unova League's donation to the CIU."

"Oh, thanks!" Barry took the envelope and grinned back at him before asking, "So, how've you been lately?"

"Not in the mood for small talk," Paul dismissed, turning away. "I'll see you later."

Barry's expression was a mix of both annoyance and disappointment as Paul left. The rest of the group appeared similarly put off. Ash wore a worried frown, while Dawn's eyes were on the ground. Clemont, Bonnie, and Serena exchanged confused glances.

"Geez, he's been salty lately," Trip remarked once Paul had left.

"Paul's always been that way," Kenny grumbled.

"Knock it off, you guys," Misty warned, recognizing Dawn's discomfort. Dawn perked up when she realized everyone was looking at her, and she forced a smile.

"No need to worry!" she assured them before quickly changing the subject. "So, Ash, how did training at the battle club go?"

Still, Serena wasn't willing to move on yet. She leaned toward Gary, asking in a low voice, "What was _that_ all about?"

* * *

"Dragonite, quickly, use Thunderpunch!"

"Dodge Granbull, then use Take Down!"

Dragonite's fist barely missed Granbull before the Fairy-type charged straight toward him, making direct impact in his chest. Dragonite skidded back, out of the battle field lines. He fell to one knee to stop himself from hitting the wall near the entrance—just as Cilan had opened the doors. The commotion caught the connoisseur off guard.

"Goodness..." Cilan began after recovering. He addressed Dragonite, asking, "Are you okay?"

Dragonite grunted and staggered to his feet. He gave Cilan a reaffirming nod before heading back toward his previous position on the field.

"Hi Cilan!" Iris cheerfully greeted, waving.

"Hello dear," Cilan replied, still looking bewildered. "Sorry for interrupting your battle. Carry on."

"Gladly." Leaf smirked. "Granbull, Crunch!"

As the battle resumed, Cilan scuttled around the outside bounds of the field until he met with Paul on the other side. The Sinnoh Champion was watching the match, though judging by his expression, Cilan would have guessed there were other things he'd rather be doing.

"How was class?" Paul asked when Cilan joined him, his eyes never leaving the field.

"Aside from an unwanted presence, everything went well," Cilan answered tactily.

"An unwanted presence?"

"Never mind." Cilan shook his head. "What are the standings right now?"

"Don't know. Like you, I walked in late," Paul grumbled in response. "I had to run an errand for Iris and Leaf."

"What errand?"

"Giving the CIU staff its check."

"I see..." Cilan trailed off. "How did that go?"

"It was..." Paul stopped, with no intention to finish.

When Cilan realized this, he frowned and asked, "Are you all right?"

"Why do you ask?" Paul mumbled.

"Well... you seem rather tired," Cilan said truthfully. Paul stared, never answering the question, and Cilan figured he never would as his eyes once again returned to the field when Iris made another call.

* * *

"Well, I guess we should get going," Ash said, tossing his emptied to-go box into a nearby trash bin. "I know you guys have tons of stuff to do still. Thanks for havin' us here, though!"

"Oh for sure!" Kenny said. "We should do this way more often."

"I agree." Misty nodded.

"I'm always for cheap take-out," Ritchie added with a smile.

Everyone in the circle stood and began to gather their things and push back their chairs to where they had first retrieved them. Dawn still held her unfinished food in one hand—she had lost her appetite and decided it might be better to save it for later—as she tried to pull her chair back with the other. Serena swooped in to help her.

"Here, I'll hold that for you," she said, taking the box.

"Thanks." Dawn offered a quick smile before she left to return her chair. Serena waited patiently, watching her, until she came back. Dawn thanked her again as she took back her food, and a brief silence followed—leading Serena to decide she needed to strike up a conversation to dispell it.

"So Gary told me you and Paul broke up recently." Serena immediately wanted to hit herself. _That_ was the best she could come up with? It was an ice_maker_ instead of an ice_breaker_.

"Uh, yeah..." Dawn tepidly answered. "I'm surprised you hadn't been told already."

"Well, to be honest, there are a lot of things I'm not told." Serena let out a nervous laugh. "I'm sorry. I'm making a terrible impression. I sound really bitter."

"No! It's all right!" Dawn assured her. "I don't think anyone means it as a slight against you—I think people are just trying to protect me when they don't need to. It makes sense you'd be curious after he came in."

"How long has it been since you two split up?" Serena asked, finding she really _was_ curious.

"About two weeks."

"Only that long?" Serena drew back in surprise. "Wow, I'm sorry, I didn't realize 'recent' was two-weeks recent. I feel really bad now."

"Don't." Dawn waved it off.

"Yeah, she deserves someone better anyway!" Bonnie popped into the conversation. "Someone nicer!"

"_Bonnie,_" Serena admonished.

Dawn offered a crooked smile.

"To be honest, I'd rather people just not make a big deal of it. It's hard, though, when we're in the same circle of friends," she said. "Plus, I really don't think I'm the one who needs to be worried about."

"I think they just see you're sad," Bonnie mused.

"Hm?" Dawn blinked.

"I mean, even I can tell you're sad," Bonnie said. "Love is hard, you know? Serena knows all about that."

Serena appeared embarrassed, and Dawn cast her an intrigued look as she asked, "Bad break-up?"

"Heartbreak, more like," Serena dismissed, refusing to elaborate.

"And, plus, I've been trying to find a match for my brother for years, and it's never worked out," Bonnie went on. Her eyes grew starry as an idea struck her. "Hey, Dawn, now that you're single, maybe you and Clemont should head out together."

"No, Bonnie!" Clemont called from across the room, a small blush evident on his face. He had practically developed a sixth sense for telling when Bonnie was trying to set him up on a date, and he was always sure to put a stop to it.

"Just kidding!" Bonnie cheerfully told him. She then lowered her voice to a whisper, telling Dawn, "But seriously, though, you're super cute and deserve a really sweet boyfriend, which Clemont could definitely be."

Dawn let out a nervous laugh.

"Thanks," she said. "but I'm really not interested in dating right now, though I'm sure your brother is quite the catch."

Bonnie frowned, pouting.

"Hm..." she hummed. "You know what you need? Something that'll help you be happy! Something that'll help you move on! And I know just what it could be!"

"What's that?" Dawn asked, deciding to go along with it.

"They say the best way to get over the past is to change," Bonnie said. "And the best way for girls to get over a breakup is to change their hair!"

"A... haircut?"

"You got it!" Bonnie grinned. "And Serena can give you one for free!"

"Wait—" Serena's eyes widened. "—no, Bonnie, don't pull me into this."

"She attended beauty school!" Bonnie exclaimed.

"I dropped out after a year," Serena clarified, addressing Dawn.

"She cuts mine and Clemont's hair all the time, and it looks great!" Bonnie added.

"It's passable." Serena continued to try to convince Dawn otherwise.

"It would be fun! You'd look really good with shoulder-length hair. Ooh, or even a pixie cut!"

"Don't listen to her."

"You should go for it, Dawn!" Ash, too, jumped into the conversation.

"Ash-" Serena began, exasperated, but she she was cut off before she could finish.

"-I've got scissors in my desk!" Barry shouted after shuffling through his drawer and holding a pair above his head.

"No..." Serena hid her face in her hands.

"Great! Those'll work just fine!" Bonnie beamed.

"I thought we were supposed to be leaving soon." A hint of desperation edged into Serena's tone.

"We can hang around." Trip shrugged.

"The CIU needs to get to work!" Serena threw out another excuse.

"The rest of the staff hasn't come back yet, so it's all right," Kenny said coolly.

Serena now looked downright frustrated.

"Dawn hasn't even said-" she began, but the person in question—Dawn—finally spoke up.

"-Okay," Dawn said lightly, giving in.

"What?" Serena looked at her, confused and still unsure if she knew what exactly she was agreeing to do. Dawn smiled weakly.

"I'm convinced," she said with a shrug. "I've been meaning to get a haircut for a while, so why not?"

Serena stared at her for a moment. Yet, she also couldn't help but let her lips twitch into a small smiled as her attitude began to shift.

"All right," she said.

_**June 11th, 2009. Afternoon. Nimbasa Town.**_

"Wow," May breathed as she gripped the railing overlooking the field. "This place if beautiful! I've always loved open-air stadiums."

"They do make for some really awesome Fire-type appeals," Zoey added, agreeing. She glanced at Don Georgia behind her, asking, "How many does this stadium seat?"

"It's 'round 10,000, I believe," he answered.

"Oh..." May looked toward Zoey. "How many people do contest halls normally seat?"

"It varies," Zoey replied. "About 3,000 is standard for a small contest hall. Larger ones, like the one in Slateport City, can be more than double that size. Grand Festival stadiums are absurdly large. I think the one in Sinnoh is like 40,000 or some other big number."

"So will 10,000 be enough?" May asked.

"Should be." Zoey nodded. "As cool as the concept of Unova contests is, I don't think it will draw in a crowd on the scale of the Grand Festival.

"Right." May looked back at the battlefield. She then, however, frowned and turned toward to Don George to also ask him a question: "Where's backstage?"

"'Fraid we don't have one," Don George sheepishly answered. He pointed toward an area on the ground level, which was separated from the battlefield by a short, blue wall. "See that place with all the benches? That's where are all the entrants stay. I guess coordinators usually wait backstage before performing, though..."

"I don't think it will be a problem," Zoey said. "I think it's cool, actually. All the contestants will get to watch each other live and up-close. Normally, we have see the action on a screen. The only loss are lockers, and that's not a big deal. I've been to plenty of contests where there weren't any lockers, and most coordinators don't use them anyway."

"That's a relief." Don George grinned beneath his mustache. "We'd love to have you guys here. Have a daughter myself whose a coordinator, but she has to travel to compete, and I don't get the chance to see her perform in-person much 'cause I'm busy here. It would be a lot easier with contests in Unova, so I'm pullin' for you guys to succeed."

"We're pulling for us to succeed, too," Zoey laughed.

"Well, I thought I ought to let you know we're willing to go 80-20 on gross profit—with the CIU receiving 80 percent," Don George said.

Zoey and May both appeared shocked by this offer.

"R-Really?" May stammered. "That would be amazing!"

"And _very_ generous," Zoey added.

"It's the least I can do," Don George chortled. "Don't know how much we can estimate we can make for you—it depends of the ticket prices—but I can head back to my office, grab a calculator, and try to give you an estimate."

"That would be great, thank you," May said. When Don George left, she whipped her head toward Zoey and excitedly said, "I love this place."

"I do, too. And at an 80-20 split? It's a no-brainer," Zoey said. "When he comes back, we should talk getting a contract and setting a date."

"I don't want to sign any contracts yet, not without Drew's approval," May contended. Her eyes then lit up with remembrance. "Oh! Speaking of Drew..."

She reached into her back pocket, pulled out her phone, and opened up the camera function. She held the lens out toward the field and snapped her first picture.

_**June 11th, 2009. Evening. La Rousse City.**_

The mansion was eerily quiet when Drew stepped through the front door. Granted, it had always been quiet—more so with the Master of the home on his deathbed—but this silence was consuming. There was, at least, usually the background noise of a maid or other employee shuffling around, but no one was in sight.

Drew tightened his grip on the plastic trophy in his hand, proof that he had won tonight's tournament. He had swept the competition, in fact, and it came with some minor earnings, plus the cheap award in his hands. For a multi-million-dollar business, Drew thought the Battle Tower probably could afford to hand out better trophies.

"Mr. Hayden." Elijah appeared at the bottom of the staircase, drawing Drew's eyes to him.

"I'm sorry I disappeared for so long," Drew apologized. "Did someone bring my father food for dinner tonight?"

Elijah said nothing for a long moment, and Drew turned his head, suspicious.

"What?" he asked after a moment.

"Mr. Hayden..." Elijah began carefully. "Your father passed away earlier this evening."

The words had an icy sting, and Drew's breath caught. He tried to speak, but his mouth had run dry, and the words knotted in his throat.

"He... He what?" he finally managed to sputter out.

"Your father died about an hour ago," Elijah repeated.

"That's... That's not possible." Drew shook his head. "He was fine earlier. I mean, not _fine_, but he was sitting up and reading and talking and..."

Drew quickly brushed past Elijah, up the staircase, toward his father's room. The door was open, and Ana and Olivia were sitting on either side of him, not unlike the first night Drew had arrived. Except, his father didn't call his name this time.

He slowly approached the bedside and felt unexpectedly sick to his stomach when he saw his father's pale face; at least, Ana and Olivia had performed the courtesy of closing his eyes. Still, Drew hadn't prepared for this now. Logically, he knew it was coming. It had been obvious the moment he arrived that his father's health was failing him, yet, considering the life—the cognizance—that was still in him when they spoke that morning, which, despite the present tensions, was the most personal conversation they had held in years, Drew hadn't expected him to pass _that night_.

Drew hesitated as he reached out to touch his father's hand, which had already started to cool and turn rigid. Yet, something didn't feel right. Drew pulled his hand away to see yet another purplish, bumpy aberration—one that wasn't there when his father, then living, tried to hold his hand earlier in the day.

_**June 11th, 2009. Evening. Opelucid City.**_

Dawn sat alone at the table in what was now her and Zoey's apartment, a glass of wine in her right hand—it was one of those nights. Her left left index finger was twirling through a lock in her hair, which was much shorter than it was when she woke up that morning, now falling just above her shoulders. At Dawn's request, Serena had taken off quite a lot—close to a foot, perhaps. Now, her head felt lighter, but she wasn't sure if anything else did.

She heard the front door open. Zoey was finally home.

"Dawn, you here?" Zoey called out.

"Yeah," Dawn answered, raising her voice just enough to be heard. "In the kitchen. How was the stadium?

"It was great! May and I think-" When Zoey walked into the kitchen, she stopped short, giving Dawn a once-over. "Did you get a haircut?"

"Oh, yeah," Dawn replied with a small laugh, briefly touching her own head. "It was kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing. Bonnie suggested it. Apparently, Serena went to beauty school for a year before she enrolled in college."

"Well, she did a really nice job," Zoey complimented. "Short hair is cute on you."

"Thanks. It's different, but I do like it." Dawn dropped her hand again. "I'd been meaning to get it cut for a while, but it had gotten so long and been growing for so many years that I couldn't bring myself to pull the trigger. But, Bonnie said it might be cathartic for me, so I decided to just do it."

"Cathartic?" Zoey raised an eyebrow as she sat across from her companion. Dawn briefly pursed her lips.

"... Paul visited the office today," she admitted. "According to Bonnie, getting a haircut helps with getting over break-ups."

"Did it?" Zoey asked.

"Well..." Dawn trailed off, lifting her wineglass as an answer.

"Right." Zoey clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, giving the the 't' extra emphasis. "It really hasn't been that long Dawn. It's understandable you're still upset."

Dawn said nothing for a while, averting her eyes. She took a sip of her drink. Zoey watched her, knowing something was on her mind.

"He didn't look so good today," Dawn said after a moment.

"He's probably upset you're broken up, too," Zoey half-grumbled, shrugging.

"Maybe," was all Dawn said. Zoey narrowed her gaze. Then, she let out a sigh.

"Dawn, what's wrong with Paul?" she asked in a low. Dawn drew in a sharp breath, and Zoey knew she had hit the right chord.

"I... I don't know," Dawn stammered out.

"I think you know something," Zoey contended, "because you're acting like there's something about Paul that's really bothering you—and not in the 'I-can't-believe-he-broke-up-with-me' way, but in the 'I'm-really-worried-about-him' way. You've said over and over again that you think the Championship has been really hard on him. What _does_ that mean?"

Dawn's face twisted, and she appeared conflicted. She struggled with herself internally for a few moments longer before finally speaking.

"His family has a history with mental illness."

Zoey was silent for moment, though her face didn't break.

"And you think Paul..." she began before Dawn cut her off.

"I'm not sure," Dawn sighed. "I'm really not. I tried to approach the subject, but it's obviously not something easy to talk about... and he would shut down the conversation every time."

"So he's in denial?" Zoey asked.

"Could be," Dawn conceded. "Or, maybe I am completely wrong and was harassing him about a problem that wasn't there, in which case, I might break up with me, too."

"Dawn, you and Paul have been off-and-on for seven years," Zoey reminded. "You know him better than most people. You certainly know him better than anyone in our group. I think you need to trust your instincts more."

"I would hate to blow the whistle if nothing's wrong. I would hate to put Paul through that—and he'd actually hate me for it."

"I think you'd hate not blowing the whistle if something is more."

Dawn stared. She took another sip of her wine before pushing the glass away.

"I do wonder..." she began tepidly, "... if the reason we broke up was because I was right, and he knew it, and he didn't want to admit it—and he didn't want me to make him admit it."

Zoey inhaled through her nose.

"You know," she started, "Paul might have thought he could stop the questions if he broke up with you... but do you know who he can't get rid of?"

"Who?"

Zoey leaned closer to her.

"Leaf."

_**June 11th, 2009. Evening. La Rousse City.**_

Another place Drew never expected he would visit again: His bedroom.

When he escaped jumped out the window that night years ago, he had left believing he would never lie in his bed again, never stare at the ceiling again when he should have been doing something else. Yet, there he was, lying flat on his back, his mind making masterpieces of the kernels above him. Drew had been unnerved when he first returned to his childhood bedroom the day he arrived and hadn't been back until then. Somehow, in the hour since he had learned of his father's death, he room had regained its quality as an escape from the nightmares outside it.

Drew could hear voices down the hallway. Workers from a funeral home had arrived to collect the body. Elijah had promised he would take care of all he arrangements for the funeral, including setting a date: June 18th, which happened to fall on the same day as the CIU's Q&amp;A event. Drew had already figured it wouldn't be a problem. He would attend the ceremony in the morning, catch a flight in the afternoon, and go to the event in the evening. All he needed to do was book the flight.

He couldn't bring himself to do much of anything, though. His motivation had sunk—and that was scary, because Drew had always considered himself an ambitious person. Maybe he had inherited that from his father. At least, he hoped he had inherited his mother's moral compass, which Chris had claimed she actually had.

His cell phone rang. Drew retrieved it and glanced at the caller ID before answering.

"Hey, May," Drew greeted flatly.

"_Hi!_" May cheerfully replied. "_So Zoey and I just got back into Opelucid! We love the stadium, and we think it'll be great for a contest! We'll be able to advertise it at the Q&amp;A like you wanted._"

"That's awesome." Drew couldn't muster excitement in his tone.

"_We wanted to clear it with you before we made it official, but we're thinking July 24th,_" May went on. "_Did you get the pictures I sent you? I made sure to take a ton!_"

"I haven't looked at them yet," he admitted.

"_Hey... are you okay?_" May asked, worry filling her voice. "_You sound kind of down._"

Drew let out a shaky breath.

"May... he died tonight."

"_What?! Your father died?_" May asked, aghast.

"Yeah."

"_How long ago?_"

"Maybe two hours," Drew answered. "I don't know. I wasn't here when it happened. The _one_ time I leave the mansion..."

"_Drew..._" May trailed off, at an apparent loss for words. "_How are you doing?_"

"Been better, to be honest," Drew replied. "I don't really know what to think. I guess I wasn't expecting it to actually happen, even though I probably should have."

"_It's okay to be sad,_" she reminded him. "_Is there going to be a funeral?_"

"Next week, yes," Drew replied. "On the day of the Q&amp;A. I'll be back before it starts. I promised I would be back by then."

"_I think we would all be understanding if you needed more time._"

"I don't want more time," Drew dismissed. "I want to get out of here, and I want to go back to work at the CIU, and I want to be with you again."

"_I can come out there,_" May offered.

"Don't do that," Drew said firmly. "Anyway, as for the stadium... I trust you and Zoey completely, so if you think it's good, then so do I. Go ahead and make the arrangements official."

"_We will..._"

Drew stayed quiet for a long moment as his arm fell across his eyes.

"I should call Solidad, too," he decided. "It's late, but she'll want to know."

"_All right..._" May agreed. "_Take care of yourself, okay?_"

"Mhm."

"_You know I love you, right?_"

Drew's lips twitched into a smile, one of the first in several hours. She had said it earlier, but for some reason, it meant much more now.

"I do," he said. "I love you, too."

_**June 11th, 2009. Evening. Opelucid City.**_

"So Leaf tells me you're going to the CIU's Q&amp;A panel next week," Cilan immediately struck up a conversation when he walked into Iris's office, finding her lying on the chaise lounge, staring confusedly at his textbook, _The Symbiosis Between Pokémon and Humans. _She had never read like he had, but she had grown so bored that she was growing desperate to find something with which to occupy herself.

Iris's eyes moved toward his.

"Oh, yeah," she said, letting out a nervous chuckle. "I forgot to tell you about that."

She sat up, stretched, and set the book aside.

"You do realize there will be cameras there, right?" Cilan asked. "There's going to be an awful lot of attention paid toward you—toward us."

"You don't have to come if you don't want to."

"No, I do," Cilan tacitly said. "I'm just giving you fair warning."

"I'll deal with it," Iris replied, rising to her feet. She smirked and folded her arms before adding, "Funny you're worried about this when you're usually such an attention hog."

"I don't appreciate the attention so much when it's prying, especially on you."

Iris frowned.

"I know," she sighed. "I'm not too worried about it. To be honest, people are probably going to ask more about me having a baby than about me being almost assassinated."

"True," Cilan conceded. He paused, a hand reaching out to cup her lower abdomen. "You're nine weeks now."

"Yeah, and... ?" Iris rolled her eyes.

"You're starting to show," he said, drawing his hand away. "Just a little bit."

Iris blinked and looked down at herself. She _supposed_ she could see a small curve forming, but it could easily be concealed by most of her wardrobe.

"Are you sure that's actually a baby or a few too many Ganlon berries?" Iris asked dryly.

This elicited a laugh from Cilan, and he leaned in to peck her on the lips. She smiled wearily when he pulled back.

"You seem to be more excited about this," she said.

"I'll admit, I'm starting to warm up to the idea," he confessed.

Iris felt a warmth fill up her belly, and she wondered whether it was him or the baby—either way, she ultimately owed it to him. She glanced shyly down at the floor and then up again.

"I think I might be, too," she said.

"Hey, Iris, I was wondering-" Leaf's voice emerged from the hallway before she appeared in the doorway. She stopped short, however, when she caught the couple standing intimately close in the office. "Mew, I'm sorry," Leaf continued with an awkward laugh. "I'm interrupting a moment."

"No, no, you're fine," Iris assured her, stepping back from her husband. "What's up?"

Leaf didn't look satisfied. Still, she asked, "I was wondering if you had invited Georgia to go to the Q&amp;A event?"

"I haven't, but I can," Iris replied. "Why?"

"People are already going to be taking pictures of you, and it would be great if Georgia is in some of them," Leaf explained. "It'll give the media some lovely stock of you two together when we announce her as your pick the next day, and it gives off the impression that you two are friends and that this is a positive choice."

"I wouldn't say Georgia and I are exactly friends..." Iris half-laughed.

"You don't have to be." Leaf shrugged. "As long as you look friendly with each other, which isn't too hard to accomplish, then you'll be golden."

"Ms. Greene?"

Leaf blinked and turned to find one of Paul's Sinnoan G-Men agents behind her.

"Yes, Agent Murray?" she inquired.

"There's a young woman who wants to speak with you," Agent Murray went on. "Dawn Berlitz."

"Dawn?" Iris appeared confused, as did Leaf.

"Well, sure, bring her in," Leaf said. As Agent Murray nodded and left to retrieve her, Leaf turned back toward Iris and Cilan, asking, "Did either of you know she was coming?"

"I didn't." Iris shook her head.

"Neither did I," Cilan said.

Nevertheless, when Agent Murray returned with Dawn in tow, Iris cheerfully greeted, "Hey! Surprised to see you here. ... Did you get a haircut?"

"Hi," Dawn replied with a tired smile. "I did, actually. ... I'm sorry to drop in like this." She looked and sounded nervous, unsure of herself even.

"It's always our pleasure to have you," Cilan said. "To what do we owe this visit?"

"Actually..." Dawn drew her arms around herself. "I came to talk to Leaf."

Iris and Cilan exchanged a quick glance. She nodded to him.

"We'll excuse ourselves then," Cilan said politely, looking back at Dawn. She immediately appeared guilty; she knew how uncomfortable it was, coming to their home, and the implying she didn't want them around.

"I'm sorry," Dawn quickly apologized as the couple passed by her.

"Hey, don't worry about it," Iris assured her before they disappeared.

Leaf stayed quiet, her lips tight, until both Iris and Cilan were gone. She recognized the awkwardness of the situation, too. Yet, she also knew Dawn wouldn't come and request a private conversation unless it was important—and Cilan and Iris certainly understood that, too.

"What's this about?" Leaf asked seriously after a moment.

Dawn exhaled shakily. She wondered if it was too late to back out. She still wasn't even sure if this was her place to speak.

"Paul," she finally answered.

Leaf inclined her head.

"What about him?"

Dawn hesitated again. But, she sucked in her breath and gathered her courage—which she knew was pathetic, as Paul might say, in comparison.

"I think he might need help," she said quietly.

Leaf started at her wordlessly for a long moment, her expression deadpanning. At least, though, she understood why Dawn wanted the conversation to private. She let out a sigh and folded her arms.

"Shut the door and sit down."

_**December 12th, 2003. Late Morning. Veilstone City.**_

"Do you ever miss your father?" The question came unexpectedly, and it caught Dawn off guard, to the point where she questioned if she had imagined him asking it. Yet, she also knew she couldn't be making it up—she saw the words rise in a white mist, up into the cool winter air.

"It's hard to miss something that was never there," she answered after gathering herself. She and Paul stood fully decked out into winter wear outside the pen, where Reggie kept the Pokémon in his care. Several of the Pokémon—a Zigzagoon and Furret in particular—were playing together in the snow. The weather had been colder that season; when Reggie and Maylene married nearly a year earlier, not a spot of snow was on the ground until late December.

"Right," Paul grunted, looking away as he slid his hands into his pockets. "It was a stupid question."

"It wasn't," Dawn assured him. "There's no such things as a stupid question."

"I beg to differ," Paul mumbled. "Sounds like a thing you'd say, though."

Dawn frowned. Her first instinct was to ask what he meant by that—but she already knew. Dawn leaned her head back and let out a long, misty breath.

"I think there's a certain emptiness with him never being there, though," she said thoughtfully. "But, I don't think about it as much anymore. I figure at this point it's probably better not to know. I'd hate to ever be in Ash's shoes. Not that I think my father is or was the head of a crime ring, but still. I have my Mom, and I think that's more than enough."

"What a nice sentiment."

"Can you not be sarcastic when I'm trying to be sincere?" Dawn asked, annoyed.

Paul didn't offer an apology this time, and Dawn let out a sigh. She looked back toward the wrestling Zigzagoon and Furret. The Furret had buried itself beneath the sheet of snow and jumped out in an attempted surprise attack.

"... What about you?" she asked after a prolonged silence.

"What about me?"

"Do you ever miss your mother?" Dawn clarified. "You were... 8 when she died, right?"

"Mhm," Paul intoned. "Hard to say if I 'miss' her, though. I never really knew her."

"What do you mean?"

"She was a different person by the time I came around," he explained in short. "At least, that's what Reggie and Brandon say. I can believe it. She was very disconnected from reality."

"Disconnected, how?" Dawn asked.

"She was schizophrenic," Paul said bluntly. "She had medication, but it apparently made her very... fuzzy. That's how she would describe it when she argued that she wanted to go off, but Reggie and Brandon wouldn't let her do it. She slept most of the time. She'd usually go off anyway and have these fits. I didn't think they were really anything abnormal until later, because I didn't know anything different."

Dawn was silent, listening intently. It was rare when she could get Paul to open up about this kind of thing, and she understood why.

"Brandon wanted to have her temporarily committed," Paul continued. His gaze fell to the ground as he kicked some snow with his foot. "I didn't know about that until last year, when Brandon decided he wanted to reconnect with Reggie and I. He didn't want to put her into a publicly funded place, though; he wanted something better, something that would actually help, which was something we couldn't afford, despite the fact he was a Frontier Brain. So he took a gig studying ruins that would definitely pay for it, but it fell apart to say the least, and so did my mother."

He paused before adding, "Truthfully, it's not entirely clear whether she killed herself or not. It could have been an accident, her drowning. But Reggie seems to think it was a suicide, so I guess I do, too."

Dawn clasped her hands together.

"I wish I knew what to say," she admitted.

"Sometimes, it's better not to say anything," Paul mumbled.

"Is that your philosophy on life?"

Paul furrowed his eyebrows, giving her a strange look, and Dawn let out a nervous chuckle.

"Sorry. I didn't mean for that to sound bitter or anything," she said. "You're a quiet person, that's all. I like when you talk, though, because you always have something important to say."

"That's a first."

She said nothing further, and neither did he as she wrapped an arm around his and leaned against his shoulder. The Furret and Zigzagoon headed back into their wooden shelter, away from the snow, and curled up together for warmth after an exhausting session of play.

.

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	12. XI: In Which Paul Loses His Heart

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Chapter XI: In Which Paul Loses His Heart

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_**June 18th, 2009. Morning. La Rousse City.**_

Drew had one and only one amusing thought that morning: What if someone mistook him for his father?

Although, truthfully, it was hardly amusing. Maybe in a morbid, objective sense it was; it would be the stuff of a comedy, a crowd of mourners panicking because they thought the unknown child of the deceased was a spirit come to admire his own funeral. When the thought occurred to Drew, however—when he looked in the mirror that morning, dressed in a suit and tie, and realized, 'Arceus, I _do_ look like him'—he didn't feel like laughing. Mostly, he was irritated at the prospect, but the feeling was welcome in a weird way, because he hadn't felt much at all that week.

Drew headed down the grand staircase and found Harley sitting on of the red velvet sofas, idly playing a game on his phone. He, too, was dressed in black.

"Where's Solidad?" Drew asked stiffly. "We have to leave soon."

"I told you already, kiddo," Harley answered without looking up. "She had to run an errand."

Drew let out a frustrated sigh. Solidad had insisted she come, and though Drew had repeatedly told her that wasn't necessary, he was glad she was there in La Rousse with him—he only wished she had left Harley behind.

"What could she possibly have to do right now?" Drew mumbled. "The service is starting soon."

"Why are you so antsy to be there anyway, Little Orphan Annie?" Harley asked dryly. "Oh, are you giving a speech?"

"I'm not. Elijah asked, but I said no. I didn't have anything to do with putting the service together—I'm just going," Drew said flatly. "Besides, people who talk at funerals are supposed to say nice things, and I don't have many nice things to say about my father."

"Ouch. Harsh." When Drew glowered at him, Harley added, "Hey, don't look at me like that. I get it. I wasn't close with my daddy either. Too camp for him, I guess."

Drew blinked. For the first time, a Harley comment was drawing out a hint of sympathy in Drew—but the moment soon ended when the front door opened and Solidad slid inside.

"Solidad, I-" Drew looked at her, but he stopped short when he realized who was with her. "May?"

Solidad smiled and shuffled off to the side, leaving May defenseless. Her eyes were wide, and her demeanor was nervous. Drew stared at her for a long time, still trying to process that she was actually there, standing in front of him, messy airplane hair and clothes and all.

"I-I know you said not to come," May began, breaking the silence, "but I looked into it anyway and saw there was a flight really early this morning, and I knew I would be cutting it close but-"

The rest of her words were lost against Drew's lips, reality having finally caught up with him. May did not expect this reaction, but it was definitely not unwelcome either.

"Gross," Harley scoffed, looking away. He was ignored, bar a roll of the eyes from Solidad. May laughed, nearly breathless, when Drew pulled away.

"So you're not mad?" she asked.

"No." Drew shook his head. "Why would I be?"

"Because you said not to come."

"There are a lot of things I say not to do." Drew's mood had taken an unexpected shift, one from apathy, perhaps with some underlying melancholy, to a spell of happiness. A spell, because it would surely wear off soon, considering where they were headed. "You flew all the way from Unova just to be here?"

"I thought it might help."

Drew's lip twitched into a smile, the first since Solidad had arrived yesterday morning (a smile that was, unfortunately, squashed by Harley's accompaniment).

"Well, it does," Drew said. "It really does."

May smiled, too, as she stepped back from him.

"I have a black dress in my bag," she said, pointing to it. "If you can give me just five minutes, I can change and we can go."

_**June 18th, 2009. Morning. Opelucid City.**_

"212," Georgia announced to herself when she came to stand in front of the door labeled as such. She didn't hesitate to raise a hand and knock before dropping it again, waiting.

"_Door's unlocked, come in,_" she heard Trip say through the wood. Georgia turned the handle and found it was true, so she let herself inside, closing the door behind her.

She wasn't prepared for what she saw.

Trip sat cross-legged on the floor, sitting in front of a cheap bulletin board he surely had only recently bought from the store, considering he hadn't nailed it to the wall yet. Scraps of newspapers were scattered at his feet, as were shavings of printer paper. Trip held a pair of scissors in his hands, and he was working on cutting out an article from one spread.

"Hey," he said, casting her a cursory glance. "I'll be ready to leave in a few minutes."

She stared.

"Trip, with all due respect, what the hell are you doing?" she finally asked.

"Building my case." Trip took his newly cut-out article and, picking out a blue thumbtack from a jar, stuck it onto the board. There, it joined at least a dozen and a half other newspaper articles, both online and print.

"Your case for _what_?"

"This morning," Trip began simply, grabbing all the leftover scraps of paper and balling them up to throw them away, "the person who was attacked by that Minccino last month died. This situation just went from odd to serious. While the injuries were disfiguring, they should not have killed him."

"What situation?" Georgia asked, craning an eyebrow.

"Seventeen other trainers have been attacked by their Pokémon since the Minccino," Trip answered, pointing to the board.

"I haven't heard about this."

"Probably because you haven't been paying attention," he said dryly. "I plan on bringing this to Iris to prove my point. She needs to do something."

"What? Why?"

"She's the Champion," he replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "This is getting bigger, and it's going to blow up soon—and it would be better for everyone if she responded before it did."

"How do you know about all this anyway?"

"I've been keeping my eye on it for weeks."

Georgia let out a short, disbelieving laugh that sounded more like a scoff.

"And here you were, insisting you were just her photographer," she said.

"I am her photographer." Trip opened a cabinet in his desk and set the scissors inside. "And do you know what photographers do? They create images, which create perceptions. I'm here for one reason—to make Iris look good, to make her look like the leader she is. This means I have to know what other images and perceptions of her there are out there, so I know how to combat them. And what is media but a billion images?"

"Nice speech," Georgia said drolly. "I thought we were taking my profile pictures for the Elite Four today."

Trip now appeared mildly put off, but he didn't comment on it.

"Yeah..." He retrieved his camera bag of his desk and hung it around his shoulders. "We can go now."

"To where?"

"The Opelucid Gym." Trip grabbed the board, and Georgia glowered at him.

"Can't you save your conspiracy theory for another time?" she asked.

"We're taking your pictures _at_ the Opelucid Gym." Now Trip sounded downright annoyed. "But, you're right, I'm sorry. Let me just put off telling Iris about this thing that could potentially kill people."

"Arceus, you're so dramatic." Trip opened his mouth to retort, but she quickly added with a wave of her hand, "No, wait, let's just pretend I didn't say that. I'm not in the mood for a lecture right now."

Trip shut his mouth again, though he remained irritated as Georgia held he door open for him so he could bring the board out with him into the hallway. She caught up with him not long after.

"You know, I really don't want to be seen with you in public with that," she said, and he groaned.

_**June 18th, 2009. Morning. La Rousse City.**_

"This church is beautiful," May marveled, walking hand-in-hand with Drew into the throng of people. Solidad and Harley were not far behind.

"Yeah, sure is," Harley agreed. "Solidad, make sure you get a church this big and fancy for my funeral when I die. Bigger if you can, in fact. I know there will be thousands of mourning fans who want to pay their respects, and I want them all to fit."

"Harley, you're an atheist," Solidad pointed out.

"So?" Harley scoffed. "Then it'll turn into a show. My empty, sinful vessel will incur the wrath of Arceus, and he will set my coffin aflame as soon as it's laid before the pews."

Drew wasn't paying attention to the conversation. His eyes were scanning the crowd, wondering if he would recognize anyone. He did—three people, in fact. Elijah, Ana, and Olivia were standing together, which Drew would have expected. What he did't expect, however, was to see the distress in their expressions; Ana's face was buried in her hands, and she appeared to be crying.

"Excuse me?" Drew turned his eyes away from the scene, toward a middle-aged man who had approached. "Are you Andrew Hayden, Christopher Rogers's son?"

"Just Drew, please," Drew politely corrected.

"My name is Casper Eadward," the man introduced himself. "I was your father's lawyer. Would it be possible for me to speak with you following the service?"

"I'm leaving for the airport almost immediately afterward, so no," Drew flat-out rejected him.

"Do you have a few minutes now then?" Casper asked.

Drew furrowed his eyebrows, and May looked at him with a wondering expression. Their gazes connected, and she nodded to him, assuring him it was okay.

"... Sure," Drew finally answered. He then turned to May, Solidad, and Harley, saying, "Go on, I'll catch up."

May loosened her hand from his without complaint, but Solidad looked suspicious. She mouthed the words "good luck" to Drew before leaving with Harley and May. Drew turned back to Casper.

"What's this about?" he asked.

"Your father's last will and testament," Casper answered simply.

"A... will?" The thought of a will, strangely enough, had not occurred to Drew. He wasn't sure why; he supposed coping—if that was the right word—with his father's death had dismissed all other thoughts.

"I'll make this brief Mr. Hayden," Casper said. "He's left you everything."

Drew blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"His estate, his business, his wealth—he left it all in your name."

There were several potential reactions Casper probably had in mind when he told Drew this information—happiness and shock among them; after all, he had just delivered the news Drew was now a millionaire. Yet, Drew's expression showed neither of these emotions. His face was blank as he processed this information—and then he look angry.

"_The Battle Tower?_" Drew seethed. "He left me the _Battle Tower_?"

Casper drew back in surprise.

"Yes," he answered. "I... was actually quite surprised when he requested my presence last Thursday and wanted to change the recipients named on his will. I've been your father's lawyer for a decade, and I _never knew_ he had a son."

"Yeah, we were... estranged..." Drew mumbled, still upset. "You said this happened last Thursday?"

"That's correct."

"The day he died?"

Casper nodded, and Drew let out a shaky breath.

"Who were recipients before me?" he asked.

"An assortment of people," Casper replied. "It won't be difficult to learn who, I imagine."

Drew initially didn't know what he meant. Then, his eyes slowly turned back toward the place where Elijah, Ana, and Olivia had been. They were gone.

"Answer me this at least: One person on the will, was he—or she—an... 'old friend'?" Drew's gaze was still averted.

"Your father had many old friends."

Drew pursed his lips.

"Elijah never told me my father had talked to you the day he died," he said.

"Elijah Colress?" Casper inquired.

Drew gave Casper an odd look—and then it occurred to him that Elijah had never told him his last name.

"I think so..." Drew trailed off.

"He was one of the former recipients," Casper informed him.

"Great," Drew bitterly mumbled. He rubbed his temple, now trying to make some sense of everything he now knew.

Casper waited for Drew to speak further, but when he didn't, the lawyer clicked his tongue and said, "So, as you can see, this is an important matter, and I would like to discuss making sure you receive-"

"-I'm sorry. I can't stay," Drew abruptly cut him off. "I really was serious when I said I was leaving for the airport right afterward."

Casper frowned.

"May I leave my card with you, then, so we can discuss this at a later time, when it is convenient for you?" he suggested as he reached into his pocket and pulled one out, handing it to Drew.

"Yeah, thanks," Drew said, hastily storing the card away for later. His eyes were in the crowd again, and he thought he caught a glimpse of Elijah's slick blonde hair. "Please excuse me."

* * *

"There are so many people here..." May mused aloud as she squeezed through the crowd. "I hope, someday, this many people show up to my funeral."

Harley and Solidad were on her tail as they moved through the poorly-formed line to pay their respects to the open casket. Harley cast a quick glance about the place—not so much the venue itself, with the stained glass windows depicting Arceus and Rayquaza and Groudon and Kyogre, among other Legendary Pokémon, stretching up the stony walls, but rather, the people.

"Actually, there were far more people than this who showed up to your funeral," he said. "It was combined with thirteen other people, but still."

May blinked, confused. Then it hit her what he was referring to.

"Oh," was all she could say.

The next few minutes were carried out in silence. They were getting closer to the coffin.

"You know, I kind of wish I could've met him," May spoke again. "I knew Drew didn't like him, but... I don't know, I feel like it would have helped me understand Drew better."

"You're not missing much," Solidad said frankly. "He was a despicable person."

May and Harley both looked at Solidad in surprise, before Harley chuckled and said, "Damn. The shade is real."

Solidad let out a short, nervous laugh, too.

"I'm sorry," she said. "It's bad practice to speak poorly of people at their funerals."

The line moved, and it was now their turn at the casket. May felt her stomach begin to knot. She had seen imminent death in someone's eyes, in their face—but she had never seen a dead body. She wasn't sure which would be worse, but she was about to learn.

May was more unnerved than she was sad when she saw Chris's now-waxy face in the coffin. He almost didn't look human, and it was strange to think that at one time, he was. Solidad observed the scene solemnly, though her eyes were drawn to a peek of purple rising from beneath his shirt, up his neck.

"I didn't realize Drew looked so much like him," May breathed.

"Well, yeah, genetics," Harley mumbled. May ignored the comment, continuing to take in the scene. Then, she inhaled more sharply as her breathing suddenly and unexpectedly became more labored. She had to turn away, and Harley and Solidad looked at her in alarm.

"May, what's the matter?" Solidad asked, her voice full of concern as she laid a hand on May's shoulder.

"I-I'm sorry, I just-" May stopped short, shaking away the watery edge to her tone. "It's stupid, I know. But with how similar Drew and Chris look, it crossed my mind for a moment that this is probably what Drew would look like if he were... Anyway, it just freaked me out."

Solidad frowned and exchanged a quick, furtive glance with Harley before looking back at May.

"We should find Drew again," she said.

* * *

Every time Drew thought he saw Elijah among the sea of people, he either slipped beneath the waves again, or Drew got caught in the current. Another flash of Elijah's yellowish eyes pulled Drew through yet another rapid—but as he was about to escape, a hand met his shoulder and pulled him back.

"Pardon me?" a man inquired. "Would you happen to be Andrew Hayden?"

"_Drew_ Hayden, but yes," Drew said, irate.

"I'm Chase Eddrick." The man dropped his hand off Drew's shoulder and extended it toward him. "I just found out we're going to be partners now."

"... Partners?" Drew's arm didn't move.

"Mr. Eadward, your father's lawyer, just informed me you're the new CEO of the Battle Tower," Chase explained, withdrawing the invitation to shake hands. "Quite a shock, actually, since I had no idea your father had a son, and I was half-expecting that I-"

"-I don't have time for this." Drew turned toward the crowd again to continue looking for Elijah, but Chase was unwilling to relent.

"Wait, please, Mr. Hayden," he pleaded. "I was the chief executive of the Battle Tower—your father's right-hand man—and I was running it full-time in his absence."

"And I'm sure you did a really great job," Drew said wearily, facing him again. "And you'll continue to do a great job. In fact, it's all yours."

"W-What?" Chase stammered.

"The Battle Tower—it's all yours," Drew repeated. "You're the new CEO. Congratulations. Wait—" Drew paused. "—before I hand over my father's multi-million dollar business, I'd like for you to promise you'll invest more into buying better trophies for the winners of Battle Tower tournaments. I won last week and was very disappointed in my prize."

"I don't understand..."

"I don't either. Really, the Battle Tower might as well hand out macaroni that's been glued onto a paper and spraypainted gold if those little plastic trophies are the best it can do."

"You're really giving me the Battle Tower?" Chase was still in shock.

"Yup." Drew nodded.

"Can I get that in writing?" Chase pressed, suddenly becoming excited. "Can we meet with Mr. Eadward after the service to-"

"-Nope," Drew cut him off again. "We'll have to do it later. I have Mr. Eadward's number, so I'll figure it out when I get to it."

He quickly scuttled away before Chase could harass him further, annoyed that now he would have to rely on chance once more to find Elijah—but he was intercepted again, though this time it was by people he didn't mind seeing.

"Hey," May greeted with a crooked smile. "You okay? You look... mad."

"I'm fine," Drew brushed it off.

"What did that man want, anyway?" Solidad asked.

Drew opened his mouth to answer, but he quickly snapped it shut again, changing his mind.

"Nothing important," he said. Drew felt another hand on his shoulder, and irritation patterned across his face, believing it was Chase again. Yet, when he turned around, he found the very person he was looking for.

"I suggest you find a seat, Mr. Hayden," Elijah said. "The formal service is beginning in a few minutes."

"I need to talk to you," Drew told him, ignoring the suggestion.

"As do I." Elijah dropped his hand. "Later, though. I must deliver your father's eulogy, as he has no family members willing to perform the courtesy themselves."

_**June 18th, 2009. Late Morning. Opelucid City.**_

"So have you and Cilan gone over what you're going say in response to the questions you're going to get tonight?" Leaf asked, sitting beside Gary on the sofa in Iris's office. Iris was across from the couple, one leg folded over the other.

"We did, actually," Iris said, falsifying a cheerful tone. "The eight-page packet of questions and answers you gave us was extremely helpful."

"Was that sarcastic?"

"A little bit." Iris nodded.

"Well, at least I can say I had a far better night than you and Cilan," Gary laughed, and Leaf hit him. Iris made a face.

"You know, I'm going to have to wash those sheets when you guys leave," she grumbled. "Actually, truth be told, I probably would have ignored your packet if Cilan wasn't into it. Cilan prepares for things, I wing them."

"And I thank Arceus every day he matched you two up for that very reason," Leaf said.

The three trainers' heads turned to the door when there was a knock. Trip then slid inside without invitation—as if he needed it anyway—carrying a bulletin board in one hand.

"Hi, Trip," Iris greeted, confused. "I thought you were going to take Georgia's pictures today."

"I am," Trip said with a quick nod. "We're taking them here, outside the gym."

"Why?" Gary craned an eyebrow. "At the risk of offending Iris, the outside architecture of the gym is one of the creepiest I've ever seen."

"It is," Iris said in a matter-of-fact tone. "I'm not offended."

Trip ignored their comment as he pulled up the bulletin board and held it upright on the coffee table separating Iris from Gary and Leaf. Iris slowly rose to her feet, more baffled than before, as her eyes scanned the board—a collection of newspaper articles Trip had either carefully cut out or printed from his computer.

"I need you to look at this," he said seriously.

"W-What is it?" Iris asked.

"These are all the articles I can find about recent Pokémon-on-trainer attacks in Unova," he explained. "There's been eighteen reported, starting with that Minccino in May. I bought the board yesterday and started compiling everything for you."

Gary stood up, too, as he gave the board a once-over.

"Dude, Trip, this is like serial-killer-type of behavior, except instead of compiling reports about girls, you're doing it with everyday occurrences," he half-laughed, flicking one of the cut-outs.

"This isn't funny, Gary," Trip argued. "The Minccino's trainer, the one who had the facial disfigurement, he died this morning."

"Chill out, Trip," Leaf said coolly. "That Minccino was a special case. Ritchie mentioned you were worrying about this, and I think he hit the nail on the head: The Minccino attacking his trainer brought awareness to Pokémon-on-trainer attacks, so now the media's reporting on it like it's a new thing."

"Yeah, he told me that too, and I believed him at first. But now I'm convinced something's up," Trip persisted. "The third attack, it was a Houndoom. It was taken from the trainer for study, but it escaped on the same day. Last week, there was an article with a girl talking about her Darumaka who had bitten her—" Trip pointed to the said article on the board. "—and she said he'd been acting weird since a battle against a Houndoom. I could have written it off as coincidence, and Ritchie convinced me to. Then, another report of an attack, a Zoroark this time, came out yesterday, and this trainer also talked about a Houndoom. I can't say it's a coincidence anymore."

Trip breathed out, taking a moment to regather himself. He'd been talking faster than usual.

"What I'm seeing here," Trip continued, "is increased aggression among Pokémon, for whatever reason. I'm not 100 percent sure all this is connected to the Minccino, but if it is... this could potentially be something that kills people, and it could cause Pokémon training as an institution to fall apart."

There was a change in Gary's expression, from one of doubt to intrigue—an unhappy kind, the one upon which fear is built. Iris looked nervous, too.

"Increased aggression... ?" Gary repeated.

"I still think it's a stretch," Leaf said, still doubtful.

"Wait, Leaf," Gary began carefully. "Maybe we shouldn't dismiss this so quickly."

"Hey." Georgia appeared in the doorway to the office, hand against her hip. "Are we doing this or what?"

"I told you to go to bathroom and get ready," Trip reminded.

"Did that. I'm ready now."

Trip huffed and glanced back at his other companions

"Look it over while I'm gone," he told them. Iris frowned, grasping the edge of the board to keep it upright as he left to follow Georgia.

"Will do..." she said, trailing off.

_**June 18th, 2009. Late Morning. La Rousse City.**_

It occurred to Drew halfway through the invocation how _strange_ it was that they were in a church—that his father's penultimate send-off would take place in something they never visited. His father, to his memory, was never particularly religious. Of all the things Drew was forced to study in his childhood, the legends of Pokémon and humans' creation—the stories of Arceus, of Mew, of every Legendary Pokémon—were not one of them. Most of what he knew now came from May, who was sitting beside him, her hand in his, and her head respectfully bowed. Her family had grown up on these legends.

"And these things we say and ask for in thy name, Arceus, our creator of the universe in which we live," the priest said conclusively, "amen."

A unified chorus of "amen" followed as the people in the congregation collectively raised their heads again. Elijah rose from his seat, pulling a neatly folded paper from his pocket—the eulogy.

"Good morning, my friends," Elijah began smoothly, though solemnly when he stepped to the podium. "My name is Elijah Colress. I met Christopher Rogers three years ago, not long after he had been diagnosed with cancer. A mutual friend introduced us, and we were drawn to each other immediately."

"Three years," Drew scoffed under his breath. "Yeah, 'old friend.'"

May cast him a quick glance, not entirely sure of what he had said, but she didn't inquire.

"A year later, he was in remission," Elijah continued. "And that is what I prefer to remember him by—his successes, and not his losses. We all know Chris was a very successful man. He brought to La Rousse—to Hoenn—the Battle Tower, a landmark adored by trainers everywhere, and it shall continue to be adored as it carries on in his memory. And every trainer, and every friend, and every family member, shall carry his memory in their hearts, too, for the kindness he bestowed upon us and the successes he enabled—whether it be a trainer taking home a trophy earned from the hard-fought battles in the Battle Tower, or myself for being able to pursue the truths I've always desired, or a two-time Top Coordinator son who shall create his own legacy far away in Unova-"

Drew breathed in sharply as a surge of both anger and sadness welled up inside him. All three of his companions immediately looked at him, and Drew clenched his jaw. How _dare_ Elijah attribute his successes to his father. The only people who could lay claim to having any hand in his victories were the ones sitting with him—that was where the anger rooted.

The sadness, he didn't know. He hadn't felt too upset up until then—and he didn't know what to make of it. Perhaps, Drew thought, he was only now realizing his father was gone, and that the world would only remember him as the kind of person Drew wished he would have been. He hadn't cried regarding his father's death yet, but now was the closest he had come thus far.

"Drew... ?" May asked quietly.

"I'm fine," he said quickly, rubbing each of his eyes with the heel of his palm.

He couldn't do it anymore. He tuned out the rest of the speech, focusing his energies in gripping May's hand.

_**June 18th, 2009. Late Morning. Opelucid City.**_

"Phillip, would you do me a favor and pass this chart out to your peers?" Cilan asked kindly, holding a stack of papers out to him. Phillip nodded as he took the stack.

"Sure thing, Professor Griffith," he said before moving among the rows of students, some of whom already had their Pokémon out and ready for the observation session. Class was still a few minutes away from beginning, and couple of students were still settling in—including Karina, who had walked in with a worried expression.

"Hi Karina," Phillip greeted as he held out one of the papers toward her. "Here's the personality chart we're using for today."

"Thanks..." Karina smiled crookedly before sitting.

"Hey, you okay?" Phillip asked. "You look kinda down."

"I'm all right," Karina replied. "I'm just frustrated with my Purrloin right now. I thought she might be a Relaxed nature, but now I'm not so sure. ... I'm really questioning if I was completely wrong about Purrloin all along, and if the worksheet I filled out last week is any good now. I just feel dumb."

"You're not dumb, Karina," Phillip assured her. "I'm sure you're just second-guessing yourself now, because that's what you always do."

"Yeah, I guess so..."

"If you're really worried though, I'd ask Professor Griffith and Ms. Myers about it," Phillip suggested. "Although, I'll bet they'll just say the same thing as me."

Karina smiled weakly.

"Okay, I'll ask," she said, nodding. "Thanks, Phillip." As Phillip went on his way, Karina rose up once more and approached Cilan and Burgundy at the front of the classroom.

"Professor Griffith? Ms. Myers?" she inquired shyly, getting their attention. "Can I ask a question?"

"Please do, Karina," Cilan said.

"Is it... possible for a Pokémon's Nature to change?" she asked.

"Hm..." Cilan tapped his finger against his chin. "An interesting question—it's something many Pokémon researchers have studied before, in fact. What do you think, Ms. Myers?"

Burgundy winced, but pursed her lips, thinking. She wanted to say something intelligible, something eloquent with both Cilan and Karina looking at her.

"... Does the basic nature of a human ever change?" she finally responded, beginning with another question. "It's true that we might act differently when we go through hard times but we're still who we are, even when rising above those hard times causes us to learn and grow and change. Pokémon are the same way, I think."

Cilan appeared deeply impressed by her answer.

"I would agree," he said, turning back to Karina. "A Pokémon's personality may evolve as they mature and gain experience but their Nature will always stay the same—much like how a Pokémon is still, at it heart, the same Pokémon when it evolves in the more literal sense. Why do you ask?"

"Well..." Karina's eyes fell to the ground. "The Pokémon I filled the worksheet out for last Thursday seems a lot different since then, and everything I wrote down doesn't seem relevant anymore..."

"Hm," Cilan hummed thoughtfully. "I doubt your Pokémon would undergo such dramatic changes in just a week, but... I'll take a look at your Pokémon when class begins, and we'll figure it out together."

"Okay!" Karina's expression brightened.

"Which Pokémon is yours again?" Cilan inquired.

"The Purrloin."

Cilan's lip twitched.

"You know what," he began, "I'll let Ms. Myers handle this one. Is that all right with you, Karina?"

"What?!" Burgundy gave him a disbelieving look.

"Of course it's okay!" Karina said. Cilan appeared relieved.

"All right," he said. "Go ahead and sit down and pull out your Pokémon. I'm getting class started now."

Karina nodded and did so as she returned to her seat. She pulled out her Pokéball and let out Purrloin, whom Burgundy immediately noticed appeared agitated. Karina pet Purrloin, attempting to calm her, but Purrloin kept fidgeting. It let out a hiss at a nearby Petilil, who cowered in response.

"Good morning," Cilan greeted the class cheerfully. "Today, we're going to put those worksheets you filled out about your Pokémon last week and our notes from Tuesday's lecture to good use. Each of you should have a blank personality chart, which you will-"

He was cut off by a sudden and loud yelp from Karina as her Purrloin turned and bit into her hand—_hard_. Karina tried to shake off her Pokémon, but to no avail. It was only when Burgundy hurried and tried to pull Purrloin away from Karina that the Dark-type let go. Purrloin took a swipe at Burgundy, missing, before leaping from her arms and running out the classroom door.

"Karina, are you all right?" Cilan asked worriedly as he hurried toward her, too.

"I-I'm fine," Karina insisted, though her eyes were watering. She was gripping her hand; Purrloin had drawn blood. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt class."

Cilan frowned.

"It's okay," he gently assured her. Cilan then reached into his pocket, pulling out a set of keys and holding them out to Burgundy. "Ms. Myers, please take Karina to my office. There's a first-aid kit in the the bottom-left drawer of my desk."

"Will do," Burgundy said, taking the keys. "Come on, Karina."

_**June 18th, 2009. Late Morning. La Rousse City.**_

For a summer day in Hoenn, May thought the weather was exceptionally beautiful. Normally, wearing a black dress any day of the year in the tropical region meant a lot of, well, sweat. But a gentle breeze was coming through the cemetery that morning, enough to keep May cool.

Most of the mourners had left at the end of the church service, though a sizable amount still went to see the casket lowered in the ground. But that had been fifteen minutes earlier, and now that sizable amount was almost nothing at all. A few mourners still lingered nearby chatting, and the gravekeepers stood beneath a large oak tree, waiting for the whole party to leave before they filled the hole.

Drew himself stood near the gravesite in front of said hole, though his eyes were on the headstone before him. It was a shared plot, his mother occupying the first half: Kara Hayden Rogers (May 22nd, 1963 - January 27th, 1991). The second now belonged to his father: Christopher Rogers (August 10th, 1960 - June 11th, 2009).

May petted a loose, windblown hair down as she began to approach Drew.

"Wonder who decided to put the 'loving father' bit?" May initially thought the question was directed toward her, until he added, "Was that you? Did you mean it ironically?"

May stopped and hung back a while longer, clasping her hands in front of her.

"I hope you know I'm mad at you. No, I'm not just mad—I'm pissed," Drew continued. "And the thing is, I thought I was going to be sad—I thought I was going to be upset today, now that it's finally setting in that you're dead—and I still am, a little bit. But mostly, I'm pissed. I _told_ you. I told you I didn't want it. Was making Elijah bring me here your last shot at trying to shape me into the kind of son you wished you had? The one who loved the Battle Tower as much as you and Mom?"

"Drew?" May finally decided to interrupt him, and he snapped his head toward her.

"Hey, May," he replied, his voice losing its strain.

"Are you all right?" she asked, wrapping an arm around his.

"I'm fine." Drew shrugged. "Just shouting at the ground, I guess."

"I've done that before."

"Somehow, that doesn't surprise me." He smiled and shook his head. "I'm glad you came today."

"I wanted to."

"I've really missed you," Drew went on. "Three weeks is too long."

"I know," she said. "I've missed you a lot, too."

Their gazes remained silently locked for a moment longer before he dipped his head to kiss her, and she rose her head to meet his. Her arm moved, unraveling itself from his, as her hand traveled to his shoulder.

"Is this Mrs. Hayden?"

They broke apart, Drew briefly brushing his forehead against hers, lingering in the moment gone by. Then, with an annoyed expression, he looked back at Elijah, who had a placid smile and, undoubtedly, his hands neatly folded behind his back.

"Hi, Elijah," Drew greeted tersely, "and no, this is my girlfriend, May Maple."

"Ah, my apologies." Elijah came closer, extending a hand to May. "It's lovely to meet you, Ms. Maple."

"S-Same," May stammered, grasping his hand. "Are you... ?"

"The representative from SAMPLe who met with Iris Ajagara last month prior to the CIU?" he finished for her. "Indeed I am."

"Oh... Well, it's nice to see you again!" May smiled crookedly. Drew couldn't manage to offer the same grace, as he eyed Elijah warily.

"May, why don't you go find Solidad and Harley?" Drew suggested after a moment. "We need to leave for the airport soon."

May understood the hint, and she quickly stepped away.

"Right," she said, nodding. Drew carefully waited for her to be out of earshot until he spoke again.

"Why didn't you tell me my father called his lawyer the day he died?" Drew immediately got to the point.

"Because it was the day he died."

"A really disturbing coincidence, don't you think?" Drew questioned with a sharp, almost accusatory emphasis on the ending consonant. "Tell me, Elijah, was Ana crying this morning because she was sad my father had died, or because she had just found out that you had been booted off the will?"

"Please, Mr. Hayden, find your humanity," Elijah half-chastised. "Being a hospice nurse is a very painful job. There are no happy endings. The patients always die."

"Yeah, good luck convincing me that either Ana or Olivia cared one iota about my father," Drew scoffed.

"Did you?"

Drew mentally stumbled, though he didn't let it show. He merely allowed his and Elijah's gazes to connect, and he gave him a piercing stare. Elijah soon sighed.

"I will admit," Elijah began, "your father _did_ mislead us."

"Mhm," Drew hummed, unsurprised. "Go on."

"We were under the impression that he was prepared to leave the majority of his wealth to us."

"To SAMPLe, you mean," Drew corrected. There was no question; he already knew.

"Yes," Elijah affirmed. "For weeks, he had not approved the will. He set forth a condition—that he would sign it if he had the chance to see his only son one last time. We followed through on fulfilling his dying wish. Last Thursday, when he requested a private meeting with his lawyer... We believed he had finally signed the will, when in fact, he had changed it to make you the sole heir, simultaneously trampling over the many promises he made—not just to SAMPLe, but to numerous Battle Tower executives and household servants who believed they were getting their own share."

"You've said so yourself that you and my father were 'old friends,'" Drew pointed out. "Surely you must have known the kind of person he was? I did. Do you know why I left home eleven years ago?"

"I wasn't aware your father had a son."

"And that should tell you a lot," Drew said. "And it should tell you a lot, too, that you're the third person to say that today."

"I do believe your father was a good person still," Elijah persisted. "As betrayed as I and many others feel... It's hard to say what he did was ignoble, considering you are his son and the only family he has."

"There's no need to try to play the pity card on me." Drew resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I have no intention of keeping any of my new inheritance."

"You don't?" Elijah sounded genuinely surprised.

"No," Drew said. "I'm going back to Unova today, but in the future, I plan on sitting down with Mr. Eadward and divvying up everything I have in the way he originally intended it."

Elijah tightened his lips, perhaps unsure of how he should react.

"Well, that's very kind of you," he tacitly said.

"_Unless_, of course," Drew added sharply, suddenly, "I disapprove of where the money is going."

"Drew?" May called out to him, waving for him to follow. "We need to get back to the mansion for our luggage."

Drew nodded to her before looking back at Elijah.

"Thank you for the service," Drew said, trying to sound as genuine as possible, though he ended up still coming off as stiff. "It was really well-done."

"It was my pleasure," Elijah replied, "and thank you."

Drew left without a further word, jogging to catch up with May. When he did, he said, "I'm sorry about that,"

"Sorry about what?" May blinked.

"About him calling you 'Mrs. Hayden,'" he clarified. "I know that kind of thing embarrasses you."

"Oh that? I didn't mind that," she said, waving it off.

"... You didn't?" Drew stopped, giving her a strange look.

May stopped, too, her cheeks flushing pink. May looked down as her hands fidgeted with the end of her dress.

"Well, I mean..." she trailed off, flustered. "It was nice, the way it sounded. That's all."

She hurried ahead, but Drew stayed rooted to the spot where he stood, staring at her in mild disbelief. Then, he smirked.

_**June 18th, 2009. Late Morning. Opelucid City.**_

"So where are we headed?" Georgia asked as she walked with Trip outside the gym.

"Not sure yet," he answered, his eyes scanning the area. His camera was hung around his neck, and his hands were slid into his pockets. "Still trying to find a nice backdrop."

Georgia let out a long sigh.

"I knew it," she said drolly. "We didn't come here for nice photoshoot scenery, we came so you could turn in your elementary school project."

"Why do you care so much?" Trip grumbled.

"Because I would like to look good in these pictures."

"You will."

"In a place like this?" Georgia asked.

"I could put you in front of a dumpster, and my camera and I would still make you look good." He stopped, his eyes focusing on a large bolder nestled near some bushes. "Here, get on that rock."

"Are you serious?" Georgia glowered at him.

"Yes," he answered.

"Rock-type Pokémon aren't my specialty," she reminded.

"You don't _have_ a specialty."

"I do. Dragon Busting."

"So what, would you like a picture of you punching a Dragon-type?" Trip huffed, frustrated.

"Hm," Georgia hummed. "That would be pretty cool, actually."

"Get on the rock."

She shrugged and languidly moved toward the bolder, plopping down on top of it. She crossed one leg over the other and folded her arms.

"So what now?" she asked.

"You could try smiling and looking more relaxed," Trip suggested. She kept her deadpan expression, nor did she untangle her limbs. Trip sighed and asked, "Is your goal in life to make mine more difficult?"

Her lips curved into a smirk, which then bloomed into the most beautiful smile he had ever seen—and it caught Trip off guard.

"Sorry," she apologized with a laugh. "It's just funny, getting you riled up."

* * *

Karina nursed her hand, wanting to ensure no blood spilled against the tile floor as Burgundy fumbled with the keys, trying to unlock Cilan's office. It was a peculiar scene for Ricard as he passed by, noticing the drops of blood pooling in the girl's healthy hand.

"Now, now what happened here?" he asked, and Burgundy winced and let out a near-inaudible groan, pushing her forehead against the door. Of all times, why did he have to show up _now_? Karina merely stared at Ricard in bewilderment.

"Good morning, Professor Nouveau," Burgundy said, straightening up and facing him. "We had an accident in the classroom today."

"Under your supervision, I presume?" Ricard seemed amused by the idea.

"Certainly not under yours, _monsieur_," Burgundy said, turning the key and pushing the office door open with her hip. "Now if you'll excuse us."

She quickly ushered Karina inside and shut the door.

"Go ahead and sit down," Burgundy told her as she went to Cilan's desk. Karina nodded and sat down as Burgundy rummaged through his desk, pulling out the first-aid kit. She opened it and picked out a disinfectant, ripping the packet open. Karina breathed in sharply as Burgundy pressed the disposable wet cloth to Karina's bite wounds.

"So when did this behavior from your Purrloin begin?" Burgundy asked, trying to distract Karina from the pain.

"U-Um," Karina stammered, thinking. "Tuesday, actually. My Purrloin and I were going to get lunch, but on the way there, we ran into a... _really_ aggressive, mutant-like Houndoom. It went for me first, actually, but my Purrloin defended me using Fury Swipes... but then Houndoom used Crunch, and it was really brutal. A guy and his Zoroark had to save us, and even Zoroark was bitten too before he managed to chase off the Houndoom. The other trainer and I both had to take our Pokémon to the center, but even after getting treated, Purrloin had just been acting really weird... and now this..."

Burgundy frowned. She might have suggested Purrloin was simply upset because she was embarrassed she hadn't been able to defend her trainer on her own—but that hardly made sense, since Purrloin herself had attacked Karina in class.

"I'm really worried about Purrloin," Karina continued. "I don't know where she is now."

"Don't worry," Burgundy assured her, pulling the now-pink cloth away. "When we're finished here, I'll help you file a Runaway Pokémon Report."

Karina nodded, though she said nothing further for a while as she watched Burgundy dig into into the kit again, getting out a band-aid.

"... Why did he treat you like that?" she asked after a moment.

"Hm?" Burgundy intoned, looking up.

"That man out there, why did he treat you like that?" Karina repeated. "Was it a joke?"

Burgundy was at a loss for words. She looked away, thinking.

"Unfortunately not," she finally answered.

Karina stayed quiet.

Burgundy sucked in her breath and then asked, "Karina, you want to be an S-Class Connoisseuse someday, don't you?"

"Yes." Karina nodded.

"Would you mind if I offered you some advice then?"

"N... No?"

Burgundy pulled the band-aid out of its package and carefully applied it to Karina's injury. Then, she looked the young student straight in the eye and said, "I'm not telling you this as your teacher, but as a fellow female student. You'll find that by the time you're a B-Class, that the girls in your classes will stop advancing. You'll be outnumbered four to one when you become an A-Class, and then eight to one when you're applying to get in the S-Class program. It's an uphill battle, and there are some who won't make it. But people like you—girls with minds as bright as yours—you're going to pave the road for the rest of us."

Karina said nothing, considering Burgundy's words. Burgundy straightened up and put away the first-aid kit.

"Come on," she encouraged. "There's a place where we can report runaway Pokémon on campus."

* * *

"This place is great," Abby breathed as Dawn led her into the main battle club arena, where the set-up for that evening's event was happening. Various staffers from both the CIU and the battle club were scuttling around, attending to various tasks in preparation.

Dawn laughed, saying, "We sure are lucky Don George agreed to partner with us. Would you like me to introduce you to the other panelists?"

"Please do."

Dawn stopped, her eyes scanning the area—until they landed on Robert and Nando, who were standing off to the side of the field, chatting.

"Robert, Nando!" she called out to them, getting their attention. She then gestured for Abby to follow her as she approached the two men. "This is Dr. Abby, another panelist for tonight."

"Ah, it's a pleasure to meet you, Abby," Robert said, shaking her hand.

"It truly is," Nando added, doing the same. "It's not every day you meet a legend."

"I could say the same about both of you," Abby chuckled. "It's nice to meet you both in person." She turned an eye back toward Dawn. "Where are the other two?"

"Solidad and Harley, you mean?" Dawn asked. When Abby nodded, Dawn explained, "They're coming in with May and Drew from La Rousse. In fact, I bet they're getting on the plane about now."

"Why are Mr. Hayden and Ms. Maple in La Rousse?" Robert asked. "Aren't they on staff here? In fact, isn't Mr. Hayden in charge?"

"He is," Dawn clarified. "But, um, he's been in La Rousse for several weeks now. His father passed away last week, and his funeral was this morning."

"My, that's terrible!" Nando frowned. "He's so young, too."

"Right? He's only 22, I think," Abby mused.

"Will he be all right tonight, then?" Robert asked.

"Actually... I think he'll probably be in a lot better spirits than you might expect," Dawn admitted. "He and his father had a complicated relationship. They'd been estranged for half of Drew's life, and I think he mostly went to try to get closure. From what May has told me in the past couple weeks, he's been really eager to get back to Unova, and I think he'll be glad to be here tonight."

"Still," Robert said, "I'll have to be sure to offer my sympathies tonight."

Dawn heard Kenny calling her name; her help was needed for something. She smiled crookedly at the Top Coordinator before her and said, "Well, feel free to practice your appeals on the battlefield if you'd like. I'm needed elsewhere."

_**June 18th, 2009. Afternoon. In Flight.**_

"Aw, how sweet," Harley mockingly cooed. "She's already fallen asleep."

Drew's eyes lifted from his book as he shot Harley a glare from across the aisle. Between him and Harley, May—the subject of his questionably mean-spirited teases—laid peacefully against Drew's shoulder, unconscious. They were only a half-hour into their flight.

"Her flight left at 5 a.m. this morning, Harley," Solidad gently reminded. She sat on the other side of Drew, near the window. "She's had a long day already."

Harley pouted and grumbled something about her always ruining his fun. Drew closed his book, keeping his thumb inside as a bookmark.

"Solidad, how long have you known she was coming?" he asked curiously.

"Since last night," she answered. "She called me and asked, 'How mad do you think Drew would be if I just showed up tomorrow?' I told her you wouldn't be mad at all."

Drew's lips cracked into a smile as he looked back at May.

"Well, you were right." He leaned in to kiss her on her hairline. Harley made gagging noises, which Drew ignored.

"I hope you know," Solidad began anew, regaining Drew's attention, "that she loves you so much."

He quirked an eyebrow.

"I do know that," he said.

"_Chica_ almost cried today," Harley half-grumbled. "Saw your dad, and the very thought of losing you brought her to tears."

Drew stared at him for a while before looking at May again.

"Well, I'm not going anywhere."

Her hands were folded on her lap, left over right. He reached for the one on top, gently grasping it and running his thumb over her bare fingers—and it was only then, he realized, that something felt as though it were missing.

_**September 24th, 2007. Evening. Village of Dragons.**_

The Village of Dragons, Drew thought, was something he would expect to find in a folk tale, and not real life. Yet, there he stood in a grove of trees lit by white lanterns hanging from the branches, the sounds of a Hydreigon's roars echoing in the distance every so often. The wedding party seemed to pay little mind to this background noise however; it was a part of the reception's charm.

Drew was making his way through the crowd, having a specific destination in mind. He stopped momentarily to peek at the bride and groom, who were speaking with a pack of Napaj's Champions—Wallace, Cynthia, Alder, and the recently retired Lance. Cynthia's husband, Steven, as well as Wallace's wife, Winona, were also present. Drayden and the village matriarch, who appeared to be in the final leg of her life, were not far either.

Drew found the conglomeration of powerful figures at an otherwise small, private event interesting, to say the least, but he wasn't in the mood to pursue his suspicions—not when the newly married couple was glowing with an infectious happiness. Iris, especially, was radiant in her gold-embroidered wedding dress—but Drew would expect nothing less.

He moved on, toward an open bar set up underneath the glimmering canopy of a decorated tree, and was surprised to see a friend—Zoey—sitting alone.

"Hey," Drew greeted, sliding onto the seat beside her. She looked up at him and smirked.

"Hey, yourself," she said.

"Can I get you anything, sir?" the bartender approached Drew before his and Zoey's conversation could progress.

"Uh... Sure, what do you have?" Drew asked.

"Here's a menu right here," the bartender offered, holding a small laminated sheet of paper out to him. "We have a variety of wines and cocktails, and a few non-alcoholic options if you're underage or not drinking this evening."

"Right..." Drew's eyes scanned the list. "Could I get a glass of Merlot please?"

"ID?" the bartender inquired. Drew reached into his wallet and pulled out the requested identification, sliding it toward him. The bartender glanced at it and nodded before beginning to pour Drew his drink.

"So why aren't you with Candice?" Drew asked, returning his attention to Zoey.

"Why aren't you with May?" she threw back.

"Because she's with Max, and I'm with you," he replied coolly. "Did you and Candice have a fight?"

"I wouldn't call it a fight." Zoey shrugged. "By now, I really should know better than to take her to weddings. She starts whining mid-way through."

"I hope you're at least having fun," Drew sympathized with a chuckle.

"I'm tipsy, how can I not be?" Zoey jested with a wry smile, taking a sip of her drink just as the bartender delivered Drew his.

"Well, hopefully I'll be joining you on that train soon," Drew said, holding his glass out to toast her. After the edges of their glasses clinked together, Drew took a sip himself. They said nothing further for a while, as her gaze grew strangely distant. Drew followed her line of vision and realized she was watching Iris and Cilan.

"I guess I just didn't think I'd be at _this_ wedding at _this_ time," she mused aloud.

"Why?" Drew craned an eyebrow. "Sure, they only dated for a little over a year, but they spent, what, ten months engaged?"

Zoey burst out laughing, a product of her inebriation.

"That's not what I meant," she said.

"Then what did you mean?" he asked. Zoey muted her laughter, regathering herself.

"Drew..." she began in a more serious tone, though she still wore her amused smile. "_Everyone_ thought you and May would be first."

_**June 18th, 2009. Late Afternoon. Opelucid City.**_

"Testing, test, 1, 2, 3," Barry practically yelled into the microphone out of frustration. Luckily, no one's ear were hurt, because the sound didn't carry. Irritation crossed his expression. "Man, all five of these mics are duds! What the heck is going on..."

"It might help if you turned them on," Max pointed out, his arms folded. He stood in front of the long table, where five seats with five placecards with five microphones were set up. Barry blinked and lifted one of the mics, flicking the switch on.

"Testing, test." This time, it worked, and Barry glowered at Max. "Why didn'cha tell me earlier?"

"I wanted to see if you'd figure it out yourself." Max smirked, adjusting his glasses. "You didn't."

"Hey, watch yourself," Barry warned. "Just because your May's younger brother does not make you immune to fines."

"Be nice, Max," Caroline gently chastised.

"Just joking around, Mom," Max sighed.

"I'm not," Barry whined.

"Barry isn't that good at taking jokes, but he's all right at making them," Kenny laughed, coming up behind Max and Caroline.

"I'll fine you too, Kenny," Barry grumbled.

"Kenny, it's so nice to see you again," Caroline said kindly. "How are you doing?"

"I'm all right, Mrs. Maple, thanks," Kenny replied. "Zoey told me you guys were coming here to surprise May."

"Yeah, too bad May isn't, you know, here," Max said dryly.

"Actually, Zoey left to pick her and the others up from the airport like 20 minutes ago," Kenny explained, "so I imagine they'll be here-"

"-Soon?" Drew finished for him, with May, Solidad, and Harley in tow. May's face lit up upon seeing her mother and sibling, and she quickly hurried to embrace both.

"You guys!" she exclaimed, delighted. "I had _no idea_ you were coming."

"Yeah, that's kind of the point of surprises," Max sassed.

May was too happy to get angry, so she ruffled his hair and asked, "Is Dad here, too?"

"Would you be upset if he wasn't?" Max asked.

"Um... No?" May wasn't sure how to answer.

"Nah, I'm totally kidding!" Max grinned. "He's here. He went to help Kelly carry some boxes of Pokéblock from her car."

"Really?!" May asked, even more excited than before.

"Really, really," Norman answered from behind her. May sucked in her breath and spun around to see him.

"Daddy!" She embraced him, too, and he kissed her on top of her head.

Drew stood by quietly, though he allowed a gentle smile to grow in his expression. Solidad cast him a careful look, mouthing the words, "Are you okay?" He nodded in response. Norman noticed Drew's somewhat solemn aura as he broke away from his daughter.

"Good afternoon, Drew," Norman greeted.

"Afternoon, Norman," Drew tacitly replied.

"How are you doing?" Norman asked.

"Oh, that's right!" Caroline jumped into the conversation. "We heard all about it Drew. I'm so sorry."

"As am I," Robert added as he approached with both Abby and Nando. "I lost my father several years ago, and I extend my sincerest condolences to you."

Drew was taken aback by all the attention, but he quickly shook it off, saying, "Thank you all—but really, I'm fine. I'm glad to be back here."

"If you need anything, please know that we're here for you," Caroline offered. "You're practically a part of the family."

Drew pursed his lips, and May smiled.

"Thank you, Caroline," he said. He let out a breath, deciding he wanted to change the subject. "So what's the time here?"

Abby pulled her cell phone out of her back pocket

"Ten minutes 'till five," she said.

"So we've got just a little over an hour until our doors open," Zoey mused.

"In that case, you'll have to excuse me," Robert said. "I must continue refining my appeal."

Once he was out of earshot, Harley folded his arms and scoffed, "What a prick." A wicked grin spread across his face as he exchanged a look with Solidad. "I'm gonna get his number."

* * *

"Are you almost ready?" Cilan asked kindly as he walked into Iris's office. "The doors have just opened."

"Yeah!" Iris answered cheerfully as she rounded her desk. "I just came to get one thing."

She opened one of the drawers and pulled out the jewelry box Diantha had sent more than a month earlier. The envelope containing the card that came with it was still unopened and unread. Iris had nearly forgotten about the gift, because she'd had no reason to wear jewelry of any kind with her not leaving the gym—until tonight. She pulled the pendant from its resting place and carefully slipped it around her neck.

"How are you feeling about everything?" Cilan asked after a moment.

"Excited but nervous," Iris answered, struggling to close the clasp. "I'm so glad I'm finally leaving this gym."

Cilan nodded before his eyes were drawn to a bulletin board leaning up against her desk.

"What's this?" he asked, moving to get a closer look.

"Oh..." Iris trailed off. "Trip brought that in earlier. He's been compiling some recent articles about Pokémon-on-trainer attacks in Unova. Leaf is doubtful it's a big deal, but I'd like to look into it more—which I can now do, since I have my independence again."

Iris let on a satisfied smile when she successfully hooked the two ends of the silver chain. Cilan smiled, too, as he extended a hand toward her.

"Come on," he urged, "Leaf and the others are waiting for us."

* * *

"Hey you two," May greeted as slipped around the front counter that was normally manned by the battle club receptionists; tonight, however, it was the place to purchase wristbands for the CIU's Q&amp;A event. "How's it going?"

Savannah and her daughter, Sandra, both looked up from their posts and smiled.

"_Really_ well," Sandra answered. "We've gone through several whole boxes!"

"It has started to slow down, though," Savannah added. "I think that's to be expected, though—the doors have been open for close to forty minutes now. Is the show starting soon?"

"Yeah, I think so. It was advertised as starting at 7:00 p.m.," May answered. "It depends on whether we have enough questions submitted yet, and Drew went to check that out."

"How is that working?" Sandra asked.

"Oh, it's simple enough," May said with a wave of her hand. "Dawn, Kenny, and Barry have been running a booth taking questions outside the main battle hall, next to where Kelly is selling things and trying to collect donations. They're also advertising for the special contest in July, I think."

"Do we know how much we've made so far?" Savannah asked.

"Hm... No idea..." May pressed a finger to her chin, thinking. "I think Tim said it would take a day or two to figure out how much profit we made."

"Hopefully a lot!" Sandra laughed.

"Thanks to people like you," May said kindly. "Really, it was sweet of you to volunteer to help your mom sell wristbands."

"Oh, it's no big deal," Sandra brushed it off. "I was just glad she let me come out here for the weekend."

"It has been nice to spend time together," Savannah added.

"Still, anything I can do for you?" May asked.

"Actually, would you mind taking over for a couple minutes? I've had to use the bathroom for a little while now," Sandra admitted.

"Sure! Go ahead!" May nodded.

Sandra appeared relieved, thanking her before she left. May took her place, reaching beneath the counter to pull out another box of wristbands. She dug her nail into the tape, managing to rip it off and open the box. As she did, May could see a couple entering the battle club from the corner of her eye.

"Hi, how can we help you?" May asked as she pulled a stack of wristbands out.

"Hello, May."

May snapped her head up to see the couple was, in fact, Wallace and Winona. She cast a quick sideways at Savannah, whose eyes were wide with awe that the Hoenn Champion stood before her.

"Hi!" May greeted, surprised. "Wow, I didn't know you two were coming!"

"It was a chance to support both my cousin and contests," Wallace explained with a chuckle. "I also have some league-related business out here in Unova, so the decision to come was obvious."

"Well, we're glad to have you." May ripped off two wristbands from the sheet and held them out to them. "Wristbands are on me."

"That's kind of you, but I insist," Wallace said, pulling out a $100 bill from his wallet and sliding it toward her. "Keep the change. Consider it a donation to the CIU."

May let out a long breath and smiled.

"Thank you, Wallace. Really," she said as she slipped the bill into the money box. She then handed them the wristbands. "The main battle hall is to your left. There'll be someone at the door who checks your wristband, and you'll need it to go in and out, if you need to visit the restroom or something."

"Noted," Wallace said as he slid the wristband on.

"It was nice seeing you again, May," Winona added with a knowing smile. "I hope we end up seeing each other much, much more."

"I do, too!" May exclaimed. "Enjoy the show!"

* * *

"Hmm..." Bonnie hummed to herself, tapping a CIU pen against her temple as she stared down at the sliver of paper before her, upon which she had written her name and hometown. "Oh! I think I might have one. One of the panelists... she's a Pokémon Doctor, right?"

"Abby?" Dawn inquired. When Bonnie nodded, Dawn continued, "Yes. She runs her own clinic in Hoenn."

"Okay!" Bonnie grinned before she pressed the tip of her pen to the paper again. "I think I've got a good question, then—a nice, smart one!" She then handed the sheet to Dawn, asking, "What do you think?"

Dawn's eyes scanned the sheet, and Barry and Kenny both looked over her shoulder, too.

"It is really good, actually!" Dawn laughed. "I think I'm going to add this to the pile of ones we wants the panelists to answer tonight."

"Really?" Bonnie perked up.

"Yeah." Dawn nodded, putting it into a basket.

"What did it say, Bonnie?" Serena asked.

"You're just gonna have to wait and see!" Bonnie teased.

"I bet it'll be great!" Ash exclaimed, with Pikachu hanging off his shoulder as he held up his own blank strip of paper and pen. He then frowned, saying, "Eh... I don't think I have anything, though, so I'll pass this time," before he returned the pen to Kenny.

"Me too," Misty said, also handing Kenny back a pen she had used. "I think you guys have plenty anyway."

"I'd certainly hope so," Drew said as he swept by the table. "Are you guys almost ready?"

"We have all the questions we've gotten so far sorted, so yes!" Dawn answered.

"Is there a fair balance of questions for each panelist?"

"Yup!" Barry nodded as he held up a notepad. "I kept track on this sheet of paper, see?"

"Good," Drew said, reaching for the basket. "Would you mind if I took this to Grace then? She's going to get the appeals started in a couple minutes, and it'd be great if we have these ready to go immediately afterward."

"Go ahead," Kenny told him. "We'll clean up here."

"Thank you."

"Hey," Ritchie greeted Drew once a space in the conversation opened up. "It's great to see you again."

"Yeah," Ash agreed. "How're you doing? May said earlier that your Dad's funeral was this morning..."

"I'm fine," Drew hastily brushed it off. "Thank you for your concern, though."

"Oh, you must be Drew, then!" Serena said with a light of realization in here eyes. "We arrived in Unova the day you left."

"Which means you're probably one of Ash's Kalosian friends," Drew deduced. "Serena, I'm guessing."

"That's right!"

"So... then you must be Clemont and Bonnie," Drew said, turning toward the two blonde siblings.

"Not bad," Clemont marveled.

"May talked about you, so it isn't too hard to guess who's who." Drew shrugged. "All good things, of course. Anyway, would like to talk more, but I can't. I've got to tell Grace to get things started."

"Ah!" Ash suddenly waved his hands. "That means we should find Gary! I was texting him earlier, and he said we should sit with him and the others!" He grabbed Misty's arm, pulling her toward the door. "Come on, let's go!"

* * *

"Well, this is where we part ways," Trip announced when they reached the first set of stairs leading up to several rows of seating. Iris glanced back at him, confused.

"Part ways?" she inquired.

"I'm going to go ask Zoey to let me into the area they have roped off for the press, where I can get a nice angle on you," Trip explained.

"You're taking pictures tonight?"

"Why else would I have my camera?" Trip pointed to the lens hanging around his neck.

"Don't worry about that," Iris dismissed. "Just enjoy the panel."

"This is your return to the public eye." Trip stayed firm. "I need stock."

"He's right, Iris," Cilan calmly interjected.

Iris frowned, but gave in with a sigh, saying, "All right." She turned to head up the stairs when Trip grabbed her wrist, urging her to lean closer.

"Sit next to Georgia—between her and Cilan, if you can," he told her in a low voice. "I need it for tomorrow."

"I know," Iris said, speaking at a normal decibel as she pulled back. "Leaf already talked to me about it."

She pulled her hand away and promptly caught up with Georgia and Cilan. Cilan tenderly put a hand around her waist, almost protectively—as if he could sense the presence that would soon arrive.

"What was that about?" Georgia asked.

"Nothing," Iris mumbled. "Come on, you're sitting next to me."

Georgia craned an eyebrow but shrugged.

"Whatever's clever," she said.

"Ms. Ajagara!" Iris stopped again when she heard her name called, and she turned around to see a young woman approaching, pen and pad of paper in hand and camera around her neck—dead giveaways for what she wanted. "Hello, my name is Ciara Skelley from Coordinators Weekly. I'm reporting on this event for the magazine."

"If you're from Coordinators Weekly, shouldn't you be talking to a coordinator?" Iris asked wryly.

"This is your first public appearance since the assassination attempt in May," Ciara pressed on, ignoring the question. "Are you at all nervous to be here?"

"No," Iris answered simply. "I'm happy to be here, actually, and I'm happy to be supporting the CIU."

"Well, that you support the CIU is obvious," Ciara said. "Some sources say you made a generous donation to the CIU. Can you confirm?"

"Yes, I did donate to the CIU, but if you want the exact amount, you'll have to file a formal request through the Unova League," Iris answered flatly, reciting almost perfectly the line Leaf had written for her.

"Enough about the CIU. Let's get back to you." Ciara tried to pivot the direction of the conversation. "It came out three weeks ago that you're pregnant, after a fainting mishap that landed you in the hospital. Could you tell us more about that day?"

"Tonight isn't about me, it's about the CIU," Iris dodged the question.

"Mr. Griffith, are you excited to be a father?" Ciara turned to him next. Before, he could answer, however, Zoey appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

"Ciara," she called out to her. "If you want your media pass to be validated and for the cost of your wristband to be reimbursed, I suggest you come back now."

"Will do, Zoey," Ciara yelled back before returning her gaze to the couple. "It was a pleasure meeting you."

"Same..." Iris trailed off as she watched Ciara leave. She then sighed, "Well, that wasn't so bad."

"A nice job, Iris," Leaf commended.

"I agree." Iris breathed in sharply, recognizing the voice. She turned to her left, noticing that Wallace and Winona were sitting nearby; they hadn't noticed them on their ascent. The rest of the group looked equally surprised the couple from Hoenn was there, too. Wallace continued, "You handled yourself quite well."

"Thank you," Iris said, still taken aback. "Hi, Wallace, Winona. What are you doing here in Unova?"

"We wanted to support the CIU, of course," Winona answered lightly.

"I also have other business to conduct here," Wallace added. He cast Leaf a quick glance, and her lips tightened. Gary raised his eyebrows, noticing the exchange between his girlfriend and the Hoenn Champion. Paul saw it, too, and he appeared suspicious.

"Other business?" he mumbled.

* * *

"You know, there is something called freedom of the press," Ciara said snidely when Zoey let her back into the press area, where all the reporters and photographers—Trip included—stood.

"I know," Zoey replied coolly. "I have my journalism degree, too. I just prefer you not harass a nice couple who came to enjoy this event."

Ciara pursed her lips, annoyed.

"You know, Zoey, I still have that story saved on my hard drive," she reminded her. "And since you're no longer an applicant at Coordinators Weekly, there's no longer a conflict of interest. I could bring that story back to my editor, except this time, she would actually run it."

Zoey laughed.

"It's cute that you think I'm afraid of you or anything you have to say about me," she said.

"Sure, you're not afraid," Ciara said, shrugging. "But what about your 'roommate'? How would she feel about it?"

Trip lifted his eyes toward the two women, picking up on snippets of their conversation.

"Awesome, probably," Zoey replied dryly.

"Are you sure?" Ciara taunted. "You saw what happened to your friend, Barry, didn't you?"

"Is there a problem here?" Trip stepped in.

The lights dimmed. Grace appeared beneath a spotlight, holding a microphone close to her.

"Not at all," Ciara said.

* * *

"_Good evening everyone, and welcome to the Contests in Unova Top Coordinator Panel Kick-Off!_" Grace announced with vigor, to some cheers from the crowd. "_My name is Grace Everett, and I'm the 2003 Hoenn Top Coordinator, and I'm on staff here at the CIU. I'll be your emcee for the evening!_"

"Man, it's starting!" Ash said in a desperate whisper, freezing where he stood to scan the crowd. "I have _no_ idea where Gary and the others are..."

"Try texting him," Ritchie suggested.

"Oh, yeah!" Pikachu climbed down Ash's arm and pulled out his trainer's cell phone, handing it to him. Ash grinned and thanked him before turning it on to scroll through his contacts.

"How about you let me text him, since you're the slowest texter in the world," Misty said, pulling out her own phone, typing a quick message, and sending it before Ash had a chance to complain. Not long after, she received a message back.

"They're on the left side, third column, near the top," she informed the rest of the group, leading the way. They quickly and quietly shuffled along, trying to find them—and they did, once they were waved down by Gary.

Ash grinned, trotting up the stairs to meet him.

"Hey guys," he greeted in a low, though excited voice.

"Glad you all could make it," Cilan said.

"_We're beginning the night with a special showcase of appeals, which in the contest world is a chance for coordinators to show off their Pokémon's abilities in unique and beautiful ways before an audience,_" Grace went on. "_Our guests tonight are some of the best and most talented in the business—Top Coordinators, trainers that have earned five contest ribbons and entered and won a Grand Festival, competing against hundreds of other coordinators._

"_Our first guest is Robert Schemmel, a four-time Top Coordinator that hails from Silver Rock Isle in Johto. He's well-known for being one of the most accomplished Top Coordinators in history, having the third-most title wins since coordinating's conception in Hoenn in 1969. So, without further adieu, here's Robert!_"

The spotlight tuned to him, and he looked toward his audience with a germane smile—which drew some buzz**—**before he called out his first Pokémon.

_"Milotic, take the stage!_" He had chosen to use a Bubble Seal for this performance, and Milotic emerged surrounded in a light blue foam that quickly drifted away, leaving Milotic the center of attention. "_First, use Water Pulse._"

A ring of water formed around Milotic and rose into a wall. It was then that Robert said, "_Now, use Ice Beam._" Milotic lifted its head and quickly froze the ring surrounding it, encasing itself in a glossy cage of ice. "_Safeguard, Milotic._" Through the ice, the audience could see Milotic begin to glow a mysterious, sea foam green, which cast its light across the entire battle hall.

"That's beautiful," Serena said in awe.

"It looks like a lantern," Gary remarked. "An ice lantern."

Georgia smirked, adding, "My new favorite kind of lantern."

"_Finally, use Aqua Tail!_"

With one fell swoop, Milotic shattered its glass prison, causing a rain of tiny, shimmering ice crystal to fall to the field. The audience erupted into an applause, and Robert bowed before recalling his Pokémon and taking his marked seat at the panelist table.

* * *

The appeals had finished and the panel had begun by the time Dawn crept back into the main hall with Barry and Kenny, having finished cleaning up the booth where they had accepted questions. They found May and Drew sitting with May's family in one of the front rows, where much of the rest of the CIU staff was also situated, and Dawn slid into an open space next to Drew.

"How's it been so far?" she asked in a whisper.

"Great," Drew answered. "May has the appeals recorded on her phone if you want to see them later."

"Oh, for sure."

"_Nando, this question for you, from Ellie Parks, Age 17, of Accumula Town,_" Grace said after pulling one of the folded sheets of paper from the basket Drew had delivered to her. "_Nando, you're well-known for not only your skills as a coordinator, but as competitive trainer. You've won both a Grand Festival and a League Conference. How do you balance participating in both trainer classes, and would you recommend competitive trainers give coordinating a try?_"

"_That's an excellent question,_" Nando mused. "_I will admit, it can be difficult at times to keep up with both contests and gym battles. I have to carefully plan where I'm traveling to make the most of my time, so I may earn both my five ribbons and my eight gym badges. There are a few times I have cut it close on both fronts, thinking I would miss the Grand Festival or the League Conference, but things always ended up working out one way or another. It is a lot of work, but it has been more than worth it for me, so of course I would encourage competitive trainers interested in coordinating to enter a contest. There are things you learn from the contest world that you cannot from the Pokemon League Challenge, and vice versa._"

"_Thank you, Nando._" Grace reached into the basket again. "_This next question is for all five of you, and it comes from James Coleson, age 15, of Mistralton City: What is your favorite contest-related memory? Harley, let's start with you._"

"_Oh no,_" Solidad half-groaned, her microphone picking up the remark.

"_What?_" Harley glowered at her.

"_Please keep it PG,_" she said, eliciting some chuckles from the crowd.

Harley smirked.

"_I can't make any promises,_" he said, which drew more laughter. "_Actually, yes I can, my favorite memory is back from when I was 10, before I was..._"

"_Perverse?_" Robert suggested.

"_That's one way of putting it,_" Harley grumbled. "_But really, my favorite memory actually comes from the first contest I ever entered: Slateport City, 1991. My Cacnea and I showed up to the contest hall, and I was dressed up in the Cacnea costume I'd made a week earlier, and I had a plate of cookies, and I was ready to make friends—because that's how you make friends. Cookies and costumes._" The comment again drew laughter, causing Harley to glare. "_Why are you laughing? Do you think I'm kidding?_"

"_We know you're not,_" Solidad said lightly.

"_Da-rn straight I'm not._" Harley caught himself before he could swear. "_Anyway, these kids I knew from school came up to me, and they started making fun of me and my cookies—and that's just unforgivable. Then Solidad here—_" He gestured to her. "_—shows up, trying to tell them off. So they turned on her and started to make fun of her, too, because of her Slowpoke. So she challenged the ringleader to a battle, and he scoffed and was so cocky, because how could a coordinator, a girl coordinator with a dumb Slowpoke no less, beat him?_" He paused for dramatic effect. "_She wiped the floor with him._"

Harley's embellishment worked, because the audience burst into cheers—and even Nando, Robert, and Abby laughed and clapped, too. Solidad flushed pink, pressing a hand to her face.

"I didn't know that was how they met," May gushed, clapping along with everyone else. "No wonder they're friends."

"_That day, that moment was satisfying, that I wasn't even too upset when I lost the contest,_" Harley continued when the applause died down. "_And Solidad and I have been best friends and rivals now for 18 years._"

A few coos from the audience followed, and Solidad lifted her head again with a flustered smile.

"_That was a good day,_" she conceded. "_It's... fun to show up bullies, to say the least._"

"_So what's your favorite memory, Solidad?_" Grace asked.

"_You can't picking meeting me now, that's cheating,_" Harley said.

"_Most of my memories involving you are colorful and will last a lifetime, but I'm not sure if they're my favorite,_" Solidad teased.

"_You should write a book,_" Abby suggested with a laugh.

"_I really should,_" Solidad agreed.

"_'Harley and Solidad's Perverse Adventures,'_" Harley added.

"_I think a more accurate title might be, 'Harley's Perverse Adventures and the Times Solidad Got Dragged Into Them,'_" Solidad corrected lightheartedly. More laughter. "_But, really, my favorite memory involves another coordinator, a staffer on the CIU actually. A lot of you have probably heard of him, in fact: Drew Hayden?_"

The laughs turned to feverish screams, and now it was Drew's turn to get embarrassed. He also buried his face in a hand, and Chaz chortled and gave him a hearty slap on the back from behind.

"_Lot of shouts from the ladies in the crowd,_" Abby said, grinning. "_A few men, too._"

"_Mr. Hayden's good looks and talents apparently extends his popularity as far as Unova,_" Nando remarked with an amused smile.

"_I'm probably really embarrassing him right now,_" Solidad realized, chuckling.

"_Do you care, though?_" Harley asked.

"_No,_" Solidad answered shortly, shaking her head. "_Anyway, my favorite memory—it happened about six years ago, when I was in my early 20s and Drew was still a teenager. It was at the 2003 Johto Grand Festival, which he won, beating his rival and another friend of mine, May Maple. When he stood on stage, though, and received that Ribbon Cup and the Top Coordinator title, I could really feel myself starting to get emotional. I don't think I'd ever been prouder in my life, because I had met Drew at his first contest, and over the years, I had watched him just bloom into a talented young man, and his hard work was finally paying off._"

"_Your favorite memory is of someone else winning the Grand Festival and not you?_" Robert asked.

"_Well, me winning the Grand Festival was nice, too,_" Solidad admitted with a laugh, and the audience joined her.

"This is going better than I could have imagined," Dawn breathed before grinning at Drew, who was still recovering. "They're warm, they're funny, and they're definitely talking up contests for us."

"Yeah..." Drew lifted his head, offering her a weak smile in return. "And it's thanks to you for getting them here."

"Stop." Dawn pushed his shoulder.

"I'm serious. Tonight is yours," Drew persisted. "We owe it to you."

Dawn shyly pushed some of her hair out of her face.

"Well, thank you." She paused, looking toward the doors. "I'm going to go check on Kelly and the other people still in the hall."

She rose up and headed toward the entrance, ducking her head slightly as she did—yet, when she opened the doors, she found herself facing someone she would not have expected to see that evening: Paul, with a bottle of water in his hand.

"Hi," she said shortly, quickly. It was the first thing to come to her mind, and it was the first thing she had said to him in weeks.

"Hey," Paul replied, much less jumpy. He wasn't moving on, as Dawn had half-hoped he would—the other part of her didn't want him to go just yet, and she didn't know why. She nervously rubbed her hands together, trying to to think of something else to say.

"Have you enjoyed tonight so far?" she asked.

"You've done a nice job," he answered plainly. She inhaled, but she wasn't sure what to do with the extra air.

"Thank you," she said. He inclined his head, his dark eyes giving her a once-over.

"Did you get a hair cut?" he asked.

Dawn blinked, unconsciously raising a hand to touch one of her shortened locks.

"Um, yeah..." she said. She couldn't do it anymore. "I... I have to go." She quickly brushed past him, and he watched her before shaking his head and going on. Dawn immediately went to the first booth she could find, wanting to quickly move past the encounter, too.

"Hey, Kelly," Dawn greeted, stopping by her table. "How's everything going for you?"

"Fine," Kelly tacitly answered, looking up from her phone. "Just keeping an eye on the merchandise. I've been hearing what's going on in the battle hall from here, though, and it sounds great."

"It is." Dawn nodded. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Mmm... I think I'm good," Kelly said, but she quickly changed her mind. "No, wait! I accidentally left that box of, like, 900 extra pens to sell in my car. I can't leave the table unattended, so would you mind getting them?"

"Oh, sure!" Dawn said, and Kelly reached into her pocket to give her the car keys.

* * *

"You know, people are going to figure out you and Dawn are broken up if you act this strangely around her in public," Leaf said when Paul sat down with her and Gary again.

"People are more likely to figure it out if you talk about it in public," Paul grumbled, unscrewing the cap to his water bottle and taking a drink.

"Hey, I'm just saying," Leaf persisted. "I know you didn't want it to be a public thing."

"It's going to be, eventually. Isn't that what you said?" Paul wiped his mouth, as Leaf watched him silently. Then, he suddenly added, "I'm leaving."

"What? Why?" Ash cast Paul a confused look as he stood up.

"I just decided I didn't want to be here anymore," Paul replied, beginning to head back down the stairs.

"Paul..." Iris began with a sigh, but he was already gone. She frowned and looked toward Cilan, saying, "I'm going to talk to him."

"It's probably better you just leave it be, Iris," Ritchie told her.

"I agree," Cilan said. "It's not much use talking to Paul unless he's receptive, and I don't think he's in the mood."

"He hasn't been lately," Iris argued back.

"That is true..." Cilan conceded.

"Don't worry yourselves," Leaf warded them off. "I'll take care of it later."

Iris pouted, folding her arms and letting out a sigh. She drummed her fingers against her skin for a while before an idea occurred to her.

"Well, I have to go to the bathroom anyway," Iris said quickly, standing up.

"All right," Cilan bought it. "Take someone with you."

"I don't need someone to babysit me," Iris defended, rolling her eyes. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

She quickly ambled down the steps and out the door, passing by the press area as she did. Ciara noticed her leaving and cast a quick glance at Zoey to confirm she wasn't paying attention before she slipped beneath the rope.

* * *

Dawn struggled to balance the box of pens now in her arms and the set of keys in her right hand as she pushed the car door closed with her hip and tried to lock it. The darkness of night had fallen, and the yellow, flickering streetlights were the only thing that lit the parking lot—dimly so, making Dawn's job all the more difficult.

Frustrated, she finally set the box down, locked the car, and picked the box back up. She lifted her knee to help herself get a better grip before beginning her trip back to the battle club. Yet, on the way, she thought she heard a low, dangerous growl. Dawn stopped and quickly looked around, trying to find the source of the noise—but she saw nothing.

Unnerved, but figuring it must have been in her head, she continued on her way. Then, she heard the warning rumble again. Dawn didn't stop this time, quickening her pace, thought she still cast her eyes about the area. Then, a nearby set of bushes rustled, and Dawn's gaze connected with that of a creature she couldn't identify in the poor lighting.

Dawn froze, unsure of what to do as the creature—presumably a Pokémon—stared her down with its strangely colored eyes and snarled at her with pearly white teeth. She weighed her options; this was not the first time she had encountered an aggressive wild Pokémon, but no matter how many times she faced this situation, it became no less scary. Running was out of the question. She learned long ago that only prompted a chase. Try to escape the situation, in general, was not going to work, because she and the creature had locked eyes, an invitation to battle.

Battling was another option, but her Pokéballs were in her purse, and that required a lot of movement and vulnerability, considering she had a giant box in her hands and couldn't discreetly reach for one of her Pokémon. That left one choice: To try to talk it down from a fight.

"Hey there," Dawn said, trying to sound friendly. "I'm not going to hurt you. In fact, if you come out and let me see you, I'll give you some extra food in my bag."

Without warning, the Pokémon leapt from its place of hiding with an atrocious roar, and Dawn gasped before diving out of the way. The box of pens fell, its contents scattering, while Dawn's hands scrapped against the pavement. She flipped on her side to get a look at her attacker: A Houndoom. Yet, this Houndoom didn't look quite like any other Houndoom she had seen before. A horn was missing, and she could see its fur was mangy and falling out in patches across its body. Its teeth, however, were still in perfect condition.

Dawn's mind was racing—Houndoom; Fire-type; weak against Water; Piplup—and she knew she had no other choice but to fight. She ripped open her purse and dug around, trying to find Piplup's Pokéball.

"Piplup, Hydro Pump!" she called out in desperation when she finally found him. Piplup immediately understood the situation was dangerous when he emerged, and he unleashed a powerful blast of water at Houndoom, which he jumped to avoid. In the meantime, Dawn pushed herself back onto her knees, her palms stinging.

The Houndoom growled against and jumped at Piplup, baring its teeth. Piplup panicked and covered his head with his flippers—but Houndoom's fangs never sunk into him.

"Torterra, Frenzy Plant!" A set of thick, thorned tendrils wrapped around Houndoom's limbs and slammed him into the ground. The tendrils unraveled, revealing Paul and his Torterra as Dawn and Piplup's rescuers. He brusquely strode toward Dawn, grasping her arm and helping her stand the rest of the way.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Y-Yeah." Dawn nodded. "I was just caught off guard..."

While they spoke, the Houndoom—which both thought surely must have been knocked out cold—staggered to its feet without them noticing, and it turned on Torterra. Torterra narrowed its gaze, but it was helpless to move, as it was still recovering from using Frenzy Plant. Thus, Houndoom was able to attack Torterra without retaliation, and it sunk its teeth into Torterra's neck in a powerful Crunch attack.

Both Paul and Dawn spun around when they heard Torterra cry out in pain.

"Shake it off, Torterra!" Paul ordered. Torterra tried to do so, but Houndoom had a firm lock, and his head was positioned between the stony spike on the side of Torterra's head and his shell, giving the Houndoom a stability that allowed him to stay latched on. Suddenly, Dawn heard a sickening crack—and for one terrifying moment, Dawn had thought the Houndoom had somehow broken Torterra's neck—but she soon realized that something perhaps far more disturbing had occurred.

"Piplup, use-" Dawn began, trying to think of an attack that could knock the Fire-type off Torterra, but she was beaten to it.

"-Excadrill, use Drill Run!"

Excadrill came barreling toward Houndoom, managing to break the lock he had on Torterra's neck and—for sure, this time—knocking him out. It was then that Dawn realized the cracking noise had, in fact, been Houndoom's jaw, as she saw it hanging limply from his head at a 90-degree angle, a mix of slobber and blood oozing through the now-broken teeth.

Her concerns were immediately drawn toward Torterra, however, as he let out a gurgled, pained gasp. Even in the dim light, she could see Paul's skin pale before he hurried to his Pokémon.

"Torterra... Torterra..." he said, carefully grasping his starter Pokémon's head as he looked for the damage. He could see hardly anything in the light, but the one thing he did see—and feel—was his own Pokémon's hot blood on his hands when he briefly pulled them away.

"W-What happened here?" Iris stammered in shock. She did a quick double-take between Torterra and Houndoom, her gaze temporarily fixing on the latter's broken jaw. She felt a minor vibration against her chest, but it was lost in the beats of her own heart.

Neither Paul nor Dawn could answer. Dawn stood mortified for along moment before realized she had to act. She quickly recalled Piplup before managing to force the words "I-I'll get Abby!" out. When she turned to run back toward the battle club, however, she was met by the blinding flash of a camera. Iris immediately recognized its user.

"Get out of here! Go!" she yelled at Ciara, and the reporter scuttled away. Iris then sunk to her knees at Torterra's side, and Dawn, recovering, took off.

* * *

"Can't you put your phone down for just a moment to enjoy the hard work your fellow coordinators and co-workers put into this panel?" Conway condescended to Ursula, who was sitting beside him with her nails tapping her phone's screen repeatedly. She gave him a dirty look.

"I'm live-tweeting the panel on our official Twitter account, you dingus," she snarled.

"Quiet, you two." Barry turned around and glared. "Or I'm gonna give you a fine."

"_All right, Abby, here's a question for you from 17-year-old Bonnie Liscio of Lumiose City, Kalos,_" Grace said, clearing her throat. "_Abby, is there anything you took away from coordinating that you now use in your job as a Pokémon Doctor?_"

Dawn stopped running the moment she re-entered the main battle hall, slowing to a stiff, though still brisk pace as she moved toward the front. Her hands were shaking as she moved, knowing she would have to wait until Abby answered.

"_Ooh, that's an interesting question._" Abby paused, giving it some thought. "_Definitely. Definitely there are things coordinating has done for me that has stuck with me for my whole life and affected my career. Coordinating deepened my love for Pokémon, and it helped me realize that other people love their Pokémon just as much, even if they don't show it in the same way._

_You have to know and love and have a true partnership with your Pokémon to pull off the kind of beautiful appeals you see in contests, and to win in any battle. I needed to understand that. I needed to understand the kind of other trainers have for their Pokémon in order to become a good Pokémon Doctor—because I need to be personally invested in my patients, because knowing how much their trainer loves them makes me love them, too, and it drives me to do whatever I can to save their lives._"

"_Thank you, Abby!_" As soon as Grace uttered those words, Dawn went up to the panelist table, speaking to Abby in a low, though hurried voice. Abby's expression deadpanned, and she nodded before rising from her seat. Grace stumbled over her words, confused as to why Abby was leaving with Dawn—as was everyone else in the audience—but in some bout of wisdom, she carried on without inquiry.

"What the-" Drew rose up, alarmed. "Dawn." He stopped her, gently though firmly grasping her upper arm when she passed by. Abby kept going. "What's going on?"

Dawn's bottom lip quivered, and Drew felt a pit form in his stomach. Her horrified, pallor expression and the tears that were forming in her eyes told him something was _very_ wrong.

"T-There was this Houndoom, and it attacked me in the parking lot," Dawn began, her voice cracking. "Paul and his Torterra saved me and Piplup, but then the Houndoom went for Torterra's throat, and—I've never seen anything like it, it's _jaw_, the Houndoom's jaw came unhinged just so he could get it around Torterra's neck, and now Torterra's bleeding everywhere, and if it weren't for Iris's Excadrill... I had to get Abby, Torterra was gasping for air and-"

Drew let go of Dawn's arm. His skin was now paling, too.

"I-I'm sorry," Dawn stammered as she began walking back, away from him. "I have to go—I have to help."

The staffers sitting close enough to overhear the conversation looked similarly shocked. May drew in a shaky breath, pressing her hands to her chest. Kenny scrambled to stand.

"Don't worry," he told Drew. "I'll go see what this is all about. If we all leave, people will get more suspicious."

"Yeah." Drew nodded. "Go."

* * *

Abby had seen here fair share of terrible, life-threatening injuries and conditions in her years as a Pokémon Doctor, but when she hurried out into that parking lot, she felt as though she had walked onto the set of a horror movie. She stopped, her breath catching. On one side, she had an unconscious, mutilated Houndoom—on the the other, a Torterra struggling to breathe, the bloodied hands of two Champions on him, desperately trying to help him.

"Dr. Abby," Paul bleated, recognizing her as the help he needed. "My Torterra, his throat-"

Abby quickly reached into her back pocket and pulled out her phone. She quickly bent down next to Torterra, shining the light on his neck. It was as she feared—his carotid arteries had been punctured by the Houndoom's bite.

"We need to get to a Pokémon Center," she said. "I don't have the resources here to treat him. Do you have his Pokéball on you?"

"If I put him in his Pokéball, he'll bleed out and _die_ in there," Paul contended. Dawn and Kenny soon caught up with the group, Kenny stopping momentarily to let out a shaky breath.

"We can't carry him there, Paul," Abby reasoned as calmly as she could. "If we have a cloth or something to wrap around his neck, that may help dam the bleeding, better than your hands can."

Iris straightened up and firmly gripped the edge of her dress, tearing into it with sheer force and ripping off the bottom half—effectively turning her dress into a shirt and leaving her leggings to act as her pants. She handed the cloth to Abby, and Paul gave in, retrieving Torterra's Pokéball.

"What about the Houndoom?" Kenny asked, getting over his shock.

"I don't _care_ about the Houndoom," Paul snarled.

"There's an extra Pokéball in my bag," Abby said as she pressed the cloth to Torterra's neck. "Catch it, we'll take it with us."

Dawn nodded, and she made a grab for Abby's bag, rummaging through it and pulling the ball out. She enlarged it and tossed it toward the Houndoom—but it immediately bounced off. Alarm crossed her expression.

"I-It already has a trainer?!"

* * *

"Iris?" Georgia's voice rang out in the women's bathroom as she strolled inside, hand on her hip. "You've been in here for a while now. Your husband's worried. I told him you're probably just sick because you're pregnant, which only made him want me to come check up on you more."

Her words were met with silence. Georgia folded her arms and walked further inside, her heels clicking against the tile as she did.

"Iris, are you in here?" she asked, now more annoyed than before.

More silence.

Georgia finally ducked her head low enough to see if there were any feet beneath the stalls—and there weren't.

"Arceus," she mumbled tiredly before straightening up and hurrying out of the bathroom.

* * *

The wait in the Pokémon Center's ER unit was torturous, and the silence that accompanied it was no better. No one knew what to say—if there was anything that could be said. Dawn was focusing of keeping her breathing even, and Kenny kept a comforting hand on her spine—though she might not have noticed either way. Iris was braiding her hair to distract herself. Paul sat alone, his head hanging and a hand pressed against his forehead. His thumb was rubbing his temple.

A cell phone rang. No one moved.

"That's yours, Iris," Paul mumbled, the first thing he had said in a while. Iris snapped out of her thoughts and pulled the device out of her front breast pocket.

"Oh no," she mumbled with a horrified realization before she answered. "Mew, Cilan, I'm so sorry."

"_Where are you?!_" he frenetically demanded.

"I'm at the Pokémon Center."

"_What are you doing there?_" he asked. "_When Georgia told me you weren't in the bathroom, I immediately thought the worst—I was so scared._"

"I'm fine, I promise. There was an issue, an accident. Paul's Torterra-" Iris stopped short, not wanting to recount the horror of the scene with Paul sitting beside her. "I should have called, I'm sorry. I'm with Paul and Dawn and Kenny right now."

"_What's wrong with Paul's Torterra?_"

"It's... It's too much to explain over the phone." Iris shook her head. "Just come down here. Please."

"_... All right._" The line went dead, and Iris let out a sigh and lightly banged the back of her head against the wall behind her. She knew he was relieved, but she could tell he was mad, too.

Dawn's breathing took a bad turn as panic set in. Feeling sick, she abruptly stood up and left the room, causing alarm to cross both Kenny and Iris's expressions. Paul didn't react; he stayed as though nothing had happened. Kenny jumped up and followed her, while Iris turned her gaze toward Paul with sadness in her eyes.

"Dawn?" Kenny called after her. She went out the center's doors, and he followed. "Dawn, are you all right?"

She spun around, her shoulders crumpled and her hands clutching her chest.

"It's all my fault—it's all my fault," she cried, her voice shaking. "The Houndoom attacked _me_, and when Paul—and when Paul and Torterra saved me, I wasn't paying attention, I thought the Houndoom had passed out. And I was too shocked, too stupid, to do anything when that Houndoom latched onto Torterra's neck like that. I had Piplup with me, I could've told him to do something, he's strong against Fire-types, I could have knocked him off."

"Dawn, you can't blame yourself," he tried to assure her.

"If Torterra dies-"

"-Torterra is _not_ going to die," Kenny told her firmly, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Listen to me: You know Abby is one of the best Pokémon Doctors in the entire country, and she's working with Nurse Joy right now. Torterra's in good hands. He'll be fine—I _promise_ he'll be fine. Just breathe, okay?"

Dawn nodded slowly, sucking in her breath and trying to calm herself once again.

"You're right," she said. Kenny nodded with her, letting out a relieved sigh.

"Come on." He pulled her into a tight embrace, and Dawn's hands nervously moved up his back as she laid her head on his shoulder.

* * *

Paul wasn't sure how much time had passed since they had come—whether the CIU event had ended or if it was still ongoing, how long Kenny and Dawn had been out of the room. He supposed it couldn't have been too long; he hadn't really been listening when Iris talked on the phone, but she had asked Cilan to come, and he wasn't there yet. These were just minor musings of the mind, however, in a haze of thoughts he couldn't sort out.

He and Iris had both washed their hands since arriving, but they didn't feel clean; the heat was still there, under his skin, beneath his nails. That heat was all he could feel then, and maybe that was good—because he didn't want to feel much else.

"Paul?" His head snapped up when Abby walked through the double doors leading to the operating room. Iris, who had been absentmindedly playing with her wedding rings, also jolted out of her distant thoughts.

"Is he okay?" She jumped up, speaking quickly. "Is he all right?"

Abby looked at her, her lips pursed, but she said nothing. She slowly turned her head back to Paul.

"Paul, come back with me," she gently urged. He nodded, rising to his feet. She held the door open for him—yet he only took a few steps inside before he turned to face her and speak.

"What's the matter?" he asked. "Did his neck snap? Is he paralyzed?"

Abby's bottom lip briefly quivered.

"No," she answered.

"Then, he is fine?" he pressed. Abby sucked in her breath and sighed.

"Paul..."

Paul heard the sympathy, the pity in her tone—neither of which he wanted. He had never wanted them, and he especially didn't want them _now_.

"... No. No, no." He shook his head. "Don't tell me. Don't tell me-"

"-Nurse Joy and I did everything we could," Abby said, trying to keep her voice even.

"That's not—it's not-" He choked on his own words, his tongue scrambling them, because he didn't know where he wanted them to go; the voice he heard was not his own, it was not the voice he knew he had spoken with for the past 23 years of his life.

Abby fell back, as did her gaze.

"I'm so sorry," she said quietly.

Paul had never fully understood sentiment—why Dawn cried at the end of some movies, why his father persisted in visiting his mother's grave every year, why Reggie would sometimes tear up while watching Cedar performing mundane activities. Emotion—rather, being emotional—was a concept lost on him. When people talked about falling in love, or burning up with hatred, or facing a devastating loss, he thought it was an exaggeration. He wasn't sure if there as something wrong with the world, or if it was just him; if he had simply become numb to most of his feelings. Yet, in that moment, Paul at least understood what it meant to have your heart ripped out of your chest.

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	13. XII: In Which Kenny Hesitates to Step In

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Chapter XII: In Which Kenny Hesitates to Step In

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_**June 19th, 2009. Morning. Opelucid City.**_

"Paul?" Leaf called out into the apartment, but her voice bounced off the barren blue walls and rang in her ears. Still, she waited a moment to see whether he would answer her; he didn't. She let out a long breath and dropped her bag on the sofa before raising her voice higher, half-pleading, "Paul, please tell me you're here."

No response. Leaf felt her stomach begin to knot. She strode forward, taking a left to peek into the kitchen and nearby living room. He wasn't there. She turned and went the opposite direction, checking the few rooms she passed along the way—a closet, a small office—before she finally reached the bedroom. The door was closed.

Leaf closed her eyes, inhaling, trying to prepare for whatever she might find. She grabbed the doorknob and turned it.

"Paul? Are-" She stopped short, her voice dying off. He was there after all, lying flat on his back in bed, his eyes staring dully at the ceiling. She couldn't feel relief at finding him, though, because of the state he was in: messy hair that was sprawled across the pillow, bloodshot eyes, a terrifyingly blank expression. She had stumbled upon rock bottom—except this time, she was only a visitor.

"How'd you get in?" he asked, his directionless gaze unchanging.

Leaf's hand dropped to her side.

"I picked the lock," she admitted. "You weren't answering your phone."

"That's because I don't want to talk to anyone."

"People are worried about you," Leaf said simply. He didn't respond. She pursed her lips and wrung her hands together, casting her gaze around the room. She noticed his cell phone on his night stand and picked it up. "Arceus, you have like twenty-three missed calls."

Again, no response.

"Ash, Reggie, Zoey, Drew, me, Ritchie, Cynthia," Leaf began reading the list aloud. She paused before adding, "Dawn."

"Put that down unless you're going to turn it off," Paul said suddenly, firmly.

Leaf knew she was walking a fine line. Her temper wanted to flare up, to chastise him for undoubtedly scaring people who loved him—for scaring her—but she couldn't say she blamed him either. If she were him, she wouldn't want to relive last night's events over and over again with every friend, every family member, and every acquaintance.

"I know I'm probably the last person you want to see right now, but-" she started again.

"-You are," he cut her off.

"The only reason I'm here is because I care about you. I know that's hard to believe, because it's a lot easier for me to be angry and sarcastic with people than it is to be loving and understanding. But I do, Paul. I'm really sorry," she persisted. She sighed again before adding, "I don't know what to say—I don't think there's anything I _can_ say, without it just being empty words and phrases."

He didn't move as Leaf hesitantly sat on the edge of his bed.

"Do you..." she began awkwardly, "want a hug or something?"

He finally turned his head toward her, his gaze narrowed, but his eyes still vacant.

"No."

Leaf sighed, still dropping a hand to his shoulder and rubbing it. He didn't try to shrug her off, and Leaf figured that was more of a bad sign than a good one. His total indifference to everything, except his own grief, was unnerving.

"I should have figured that," she conceded.

A hollowed silence followed. Leaf's hand was still on his shoulder, and she didn't know whether to withdraw it or not. She decided to keep it there, on the off-chance it did bring some minute level of reassurance.

"... I haven't told the other Pokémon yet." Paul unexpectedly spoke again, his voice small and contained.

"I'll do it," Leaf immediately volunteered.

"No, I have to do it," he said. "Right now, I'm just waiting to see if I'm going to wake up and realize this was all a nightmare—even though I know it isn't, because I haven't slept yet."

"I think we all wish it was a nightmare."

"That's nice. But you're not living it." The line was clearly meant to be delivered snappishly, but it fell flat.

Leaf frowned.

"I want to help," she said, trying not to sound pushy. "And I think the best way I can help is by bringing you someone you _do_ want to see—and I don't know if you want to see Dawn or not, but I do know you need to see her. You two need to talk. She was inconsolable by the time I got to the center last night."

Paul's fingers curled, but he said nothing for a while. Then, "Pokémon will do anything their trainers would. Torterra wouldn't, and he didn't, hesitate to sacrifice himself for Dawn. I just wish it was me instead of him who was dead—because I think we'd both be happier that way."

There was a change in Leaf's expression as her breath temporarily grew shallow. Paul closed his eyes.

"I'd like you to leave now," he said.

Leaf shook her head.

"I don't think I can do that."

"Why not?" he asked, too tired to muster up any semblance of anger or frustration in his tone.

Leaf swallowed.

"Because I don't know if I can trust you to be by yourself right now."

* * *

The scent of Cilan's cooking was what finally drew Iris out of bed—barefooted, unshowered, dressed in her pajamas still—and into the kitchen, where her husband was at the stove, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pressed into a hard line as he flipped a pancake. Iris looked and felt exhausted, which made sense, considering her sleep had been a restless one, plagued with feelings of guilt and melancholy.

"Hey..." Iris greeted, sliding onto a stool across from him. "Smells good."

He glanced up at her, his expression staying firm.

"You wanted some?" he asked stiffly.

"You only made enough for one?" Iris raised an eyebrow.

"I can make more batter," Cilan dismissed, turning away from her as he went to retrieve the ingredients he needed. Iris sighed and threw her head back, groaning.

"It's just as I thought," she grumbled.

"What is?"

"You're still mad at me," she accused.

"I'm not." Cilan shook his head.

"Yes, you are. Don't pretend you aren't," Iris persisted. "You tend to get really passive aggressive when you're angry, and making breakfast for one when you've always done it for two is _textbook_ passive aggression. I don't read textbooks, and I know that."

Cilan paused, frowning. Then, he let out a long breath and set down his spatula.

"You're right," he conceded. "I'm sorry." He slid the pancake onto a plate, drizzled some Pecha berry syrup onto it, and pushed it toward her. He continued, "I'm not angry, though. I'm hurt."

Iris's lips tightened. She suddenly didn't feel like eating anymore.

"Why are you hurt?" she asked.

"We shouldn't discuss this right now," Cilan mumbled as he measured a cup of flour. "This is a period of mourning."

"No, we _should_ discuss this right now," Iris contended. "We should have discussed it last night, but then Torterra... We ended up going to bed not only upset by the situation, but upset at each other."

Cilan stopped again. He set the bowl in which he was mixing ingredients aside and laid his hands on the countertop, gripping the edges firmly.

"Iris, I love you," he said, putting power behind each word. "I love you more than I could possibly say. This past month and a half, though, has been a roller coaster—you being nearly assassinated, passing out in your office while I was at work, and then disappearing for almost a half-hour yesterday... I know, ultimately, it's selfish to complain, because I am not the one who carries the burden of the Championship title, nor am I living under the threat of losing my life. Still, I don't think it's too much to ask for a little _consideration_ in letting me know where you are, especially before you throw yourself into a dangerous situation."

"You know me being who I am, me being the Champion, means that I'm going to get pulled into dangerous situations sometimes," Iris argued back.

"I _do_ know that." Cilan's voice rose, if only a little bit. "But this is not just about you and I anymore. You are _pregnant_. When Georgia told me you were missing, I not only feared I had lost my wife, but that I had lost our son or daughter."

Iris fell silent, her gaze falling.

"It isn't just about that, though," Cilan went on. "You lied, Iris. You told us you were going somewhere, and you left knowing that wasn't where you were headed. That's what hurts."

"I know it was wrong—and I'm sorry," Iris spoke up again. "I hate lying. I hate that I lied to you. I wouldn't have done it, though, if I hadn't felt like it was my only escape. I have been _suffocated_ for the past month and a half by people telling me where to be, what to do, what not to do—by Leaf, by Paul, by his G-Men agents, and by you, too. I understand you all want to help. I understand you're all concerned for my safety. But these strings are cutting into my wrists."

Cilan pulled his arms back.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize..."

"I know," Iris said, quieter. "I know you didn't. I know no one had any bad intentions, and that makes me feel guilty, too. I wanted to talk to Paul, though. I know something's been wrong recently. I'm positive the reason why Dawn came to speak with Leaf alone last week was to talk about Paul. Also, if I hadn't gone... I don't know what else would have happened with that Houndoom. Would it have turned back on Dawn and Paul and Piplup? Would it have killed one of them, too?"

She choked on the word "killed," her eyes starting to water. Cilan's face softened with compassion, and he rounded the counter to embrace her.

"Oh Iris, Iris..." he said, taking her into his arms and kissing her hairline.

"I can't imagine it." She was still fighting tears. "I can't imagine how much pain Paul must be in right now. And even though in my head I know there was nothing I could do, I can't help but blame myself, because Trip came in yesterday with that stupid bulletin board, talking about a Houndoom that was attacking people and Pokémon, and I still couldn't stop it..."

"Wait, what?" Cilan pulled away to look at her.

"That bulletin board in my office, the one you were looking at yesterday, one of the connecting factors for a couple of the articles was a Houndoom attacking Pokémon and turning them against their trainers," she explained.

Cilan let out a shaky breath but smiled weakly, pulling her back into him.

"Well, you said you wanted to look more into that today," he said. "And now I think Leaf will be on your side."

Iris nodded slowly into his chest, calming down. She soon pushed herself away from him.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, wiping her eyes. "You know I normally don't cry like this. I guess Chili was right when he said the pregnancy hormones were getting to me."

"It is okay to be upset," Cilan told her. "Especially considering what's happened."

"I know," Iris said. "But I don't want to spend my time being sad—I want to do something. So, I'm going to eat breakfast, take a shower, get dressed, and get to work."

* * *

Abby's knuckles were pressed gently against her lips as she stared through the window, where Houndoom lied in recovery. More than twelve hours later, she was still trying to make sense of what happened. Failing to save a Pokémon had always been the worst part of her job, but the death of Torterra seemed especially tragic, and even if they Houndoom managed to survive, it would be a bitter victory—he would be taken away for study, likely deemed unable to be rehabilitated, and put to death anyway.

"Did that Houndoom ever bite you or Nurse Joy or anyone else?"

Abby's eyes turned toward the doors, through which a young, brunet male had entered. He slid his hands into his pockets as he stood beside her and looked through the window too, taking in the scene—the patches of missing hair, the purple discoloring on Houndoom's skin, which Abby had only noticed in the light of the Pokémon Center. These were details to which she had since become desensitized, but her visitor hadn't, not yet.

"No," she answered shortly.

He let out a relieved sigh.

"Good," he said. He then apologized, saying, "Sorry, I didn't introduce myself. My name-"

"-I know who you are," Abby cut him off. "You're Gary Oak, the grandson of Professor Samuel Oak and the boyfriend of the Indigo Champion, Leaf Greene."

He nodded, adding, "I'm also a friend to Paul Rebolledo."

"I figured." She paused before asking, "... Do you know how he's doing? Torterra was cremated this morning, and Paul can come get the ashes if he wants them."

"Leaf went to check up on him; I dunno if he'll be around for a while, though," he answered. "I came here to find out more about what happened last night."

"I'm still trying to figure that out myself," Abby admitted, turning her eyes back toward the Houndoom. "I've never seen anything like this before. Torterra, as a species, has a very thick, very hardy skin. The power that would have to go into breaking through it... It's inconceivable. Houndoom are not notable for jaw strength, but you would think they were, looking at this case."

Gary pursed his lips, but said nothing.

"And then there's the matter of Houndoom apparently breaking his own jaw, just to try to..." Abby trailed off. "There's no doubt about it: This Houndoom had intent to kill. But I can't think of any reason why, aside from... blood lust!" Abby let out an odd laugh. "Houndoom instigated the fight. This was not done out of fear or hunger. Even territorial fights are more tame than this." She shook her head. "I'm thinking steroids. I'm not sure what kind, though. Amplified aggression can be a product of performance-enhancing drugs, but I've never seen it at this level."

"I don't think it's steroids," Gary said doubtfully.

Abyy gave him a strange look.

"Then what do you think it is?" she asked.

"It's just a theory, but..." He stopped. "Would you mind if I ran some tests?"

"I'm not the person to ask," Abby told him. "You must receive permission from the trainer to perform tests that fall outside the standard procedures for medical care. Even if this were a wild Pokémon, he technically isn't under my care. He's under Nurse Joy's. I'm just a volunteer. You would need to ask her."

"How do you know this Pokémon has a trainer?" Gary craned an eyebrow.

"I tried to have Dawn catch him yesterday so we could bring him here, but the ball bounced off," Abby explained. "Kenny ended up having to essentially throw him in the back of his car."

"Was Kenny bitten?" Gary asked, alarmed.

"Not to my knowledge," Abby calmly replied. "Houndoom was out-cold at the time."

"Has he been out all this time?"

"No, actually," she answered. "When Nurse Joy and I had to perform surgery on his jaw last night, he was under anesthesia, and it wore off this morning. He was... incredibly violent when he woke up. Throwing himself against the walls, rabidly barking... Nurse Joy and I were thankfully out of the room at the time, and we had to take steps to tranquilize him. I don't know what will happen when he wakes up again, though. His fit undid some of the fixes we made last night, and he had to undergo another surgery."

It was then Gary realized how tired Abby looked. She clearly hadn't slept from dealing with the behavior of the Houndoom.

"And that's another strange thing, too," Abby went on, "for a Pokémon's aggressive behavior to persist even after it has become injured. This Houndoom will either kill, or it will die trying."

She wrapped her arms around herself, casting her gaze downward.

"Nurse Joy is sleeping right now," she said. "If you want to run tests, I'll look the other way."

"Thank you," Gary breathed.

"I must warn you, though," Abby continued firmly, "that while that tranquilizer is meant to last several hours, everything about this situation is catching me by surprise. I would be extra careful, if I were you."

Gary nodded.

"I will," he agreed as he opened the door to the room with Houndoom and stepped inside.

* * *

"Ash..." Misty reached out, gently touching Ash's hand, as it mechanically pressed buttons against the keypad on his cell phone. "You have to stop. He's not going to answer."

Ash's hand shook slightly before he lowered it, his face falling with it. They sat on the edge of his bed in the Opelucid Pokémon Center, but they were not alone—Serena, Clemont, Bonnie, and Ritchie joined them, sitting in a loose circle. Normally, the group would enjoy a nice, cheap breakfast in the Pokémon Center before heading off toward the battle club so Ash could get in some training before his match that was scheduled for next Thursday, but no one had an appetite—and Ash didn't feel like training either.

"I just wanna talk to him," Ash said quietly. "I just wanna know if he's okay. I mean, I know he's not okay. He wasn't okay last night when we got here. But he left before anyone could talk to him. I just wanna talk to him."

"Do you know what you would say?" Misty asked.

"No, I guess not..." Ash trailed off.

"Then it's probably better you don't talk to him," she concluded.

"What _do_ you say to someone who lost their first Pokémon, though?" Ritchie asked. Sparky was in his lap, his expression matching the somber mood that hung above them. Ritchie was certainly counting his blessings then, that he still had his partner. "I don't think there is anything, except your condolences. And I think that's better than saying nothing. Maybe send him a text, Ash."

Ash nodded, lifting his phone again.

"Yeah..." he said, exchanging a glance with Pikachu. His ears were folded, but they perked up when his trainer looked at him. "I'll tell him Pikachu and I are just really sorry. That we all are."

"Er... maybe you should leave Pikachu out of it," Clemont spoke up. "It might come off as... insensitive? Since Pikachu's your first Pokémon."

"Oh." Ash frowned. "That's a good point. I guess I'll leave him out of it, then. That okay with you, Pikachu?"

"Pika-ka." Pikachu nodded, giving a tiny wave of his hand; he understood.

"How awful, though..." Serena said as Ash typed out his message. "To lose your first Pokémon. I couldn't imagine losing Delphox..." She shook her head. "And for a Champion, your first Pokémon isn't just your closest partner, it's... like your signature. It's what you're known by."

"It's losing a part of your identity," Clemont agreed. "That goes for any trainer."

"The whole situation just makes me feel sick," Bonnie added, hugging her Dedenne closer to her. "I'm not even friends with him, and I feel awful. And poor Dawn, too. They might be broken up, but still, for her to get caught up in this..."

"I'd still like to know what happened," Misty admitted. "I feel like if I get answers, I'll feel less terrible about it."

"I think it helps make sense of it, at least," Clemont said.

Ritchie briefly pursed his lips, hesitating.

"I might actually be able to help on that," he said.

"What do you mean?" Ash blinked.

"I've been hanging out with Trip recently, and he's been on about some strange happenings in Unova—on Pokémon-on-trainer attacks," Ritchie explained. "I didn't buy into what he was saying at first, but now I think he's really onto something."

"Pokémon-on-trainer attacks?" Serena asked, alarmed.

"It started like a month ago, with a Minccino disfiguring its trainer's face. Really violent stuff, you know?" Ritchie elaborated. "Trip started keeping track of more reported attacks popping up in the news, and I thought he was making a big deal over nothing, because who hasn't been bitten or shocked or burned by one of their Pokémon? He made a connection, though, between a Pokémon that attacked its trainer, later escaped before it could be sent to a rehabilitation facility, and was mentioned again by a different trainer whose Pokémon had also attacked it. That Pokémon was a Houndoom."

A short, stunned silence followed.

"So if we want answers..." Misty began.

"We start with that Houndoom," Ash finished for her. "I bet it's probably still in the recovery unit downstairs."

"Should we really be poking our noses into this, though?" Serena asked doubtfully. "This sounds like, I don't know, something that should be handled by the authorities."

"Those 'authorities' are Leaf, Paul, Iris, and Wallace," Misty pointed out.

"And they're probably drawing the same conclusions we are," Ritchie said, half-agreeing with Serena.

"I wanna know, though." Ash stood up, throwing on his cap. "And if I can help, I will."

* * *

"I _cannot_ believe this." Zoey slapped down an issue of Coordinators Weekly, the front cover of which depicted a gruesome scene—Paul's hands on the neck of his Torterra, blood dripping through his fingers and down his skin; a bewildered Iris, horrified by the sight; a Houndoom with a broken jaw splayed off to the side. The shock value alone would make it the publication's most-purchased issue—and it had sold many sensational covers in its history. The headline read, "Disaster at Contests in Unova Fundraising Event."

Zoey sunk into a seat, moaning as she raked her fingers through her hair. She was surrounded by the rest of the CIU staff and some of the members from the panel last night, come to see the fallout. Some were white-faced seeing the terrible image for the first time, and had to look away. Others were more distressed by the implications of the article—what it would mean for the movement and, heartbreakingly, what it would mean for Paul. Drew sat near Zoey, his cagnia pressed to his forehead and his thumb rubbed his temple.

"Where'd you even get a copy of this in Unova?" Harley asked, poking the edge of the magazine.

"They still have them in news stands in the city," Zoey explained. "Even though there isn't a branch of contests here, there is enough of a popular following to justify having the magazine printed and sold here."

"So what happened?" Nando inquired. "With this Pokémon... ?"

"Dawn would know more about it," Drew said, raising his head. "She was there. She was the one attacked by it first. The Houndoom, I mean."

"Where is Ms. Berlitz right now?" Robert asked.

"She's back at our apartment," Zoey answered. "She's not in the state of mind to be here right now. She's calmed down a lot since last night, but..." She trailed off, and nothing more was said for a short while.

"So what now?" May asked quietly. All eyes were suddenly on Drew, and he straightened.

"I..." He shook his head. "Overlooking this article, by all accounts, last night was a success."

"A Champion's Pokémon died in our parking lot, Drew," Zoey contested. "That pretty much shoots any success we experienced last night straight to hell."

"I disagree," Drew retorted. "No one would even know about Torterra, about this tragedy, if it weren't for this article. Your appeals—" Drew looked toward Solidad, Harley, Nando and Robert. "—were brilliant, and the panel itself was phenomenal. You had the audience laughing, you had them cheering. ... And Grace—" Drew looked at her next. "—you lived up to your name, because when Dawn came to get Abby, you didn't make a fuss about it, so neither did anyone else. ... I'm still sorry this happened, though. It's awful. There's no getting around that."

"I'm sorry, too," Solidad said. "For everyone—for the staff, for Dawn, but mostly, for Paul and Torterra."

"Has anyone been able to talk to Mr. Paul, yet?" Brianna asked.

"We've all left messages, but I don't think he's responded to anyone yet," Zoey said.

"We're going to have to wait on that one," Drew added. "I don't think he's going to say anything for a while, and even when he does talk, we're not going to be first on his list. For now, though..." Drew paused, thinking. "We... We have to carry on. We signed a contract with Don George to hold a special contest in Nimbasa Town, and we advertised for it last night. We announced its date and time at the end of the panel. We handed out fliers as people left. Conway put it up on our website. Ursula tweeted it out and posted about it on Facebook."

"We can't pretend Torterra's death didn't happen," Zoey protested.

"No, we can't," Drew agreed. "And we won't. Ursula, I want you to get on our Twitter right now and send a Tweet expressing our deepest sympathies for Mr. Rebolledo, noting that a press release is soon to come."

"A press release that I need to write?" Zoey inquired.

"Please," Drew answered.

Zoey sucked in her breath.

"All right," she said. "But we're going to need to talk to the G-Men first."

* * *

The Pokémon Center's lobby was empty when Ash and company headed down the stairs. Not even Nurse Joy was stationed at the front desk, as she usually was—and Ash took that as a sign he was free to explore. He led the way, toward the doors that went into the center's intensive care unit and, ignoring the 'Restricted Access' sign, pushed through them.

"I'm not sure this is such a good idea..." Serena began tepidly.

"Oh come on, Serena," Bonnie moaned. "Don't be such a worry wart."

"Don't worry. I get it," Misty assured Serena, keeping pace with her. "It probably is a bad idea. Once you accept that half of Ash's ideas are bad, life gets easier."

"Why are we doing it then?" Clemont asked.

"You have to muddle through the really bad ideas with Ash until you find the really good ones," Misty answered.

Ash suddenly stopped and shuffled behind a corner as an Audino passed by, and the others followed suit. They then continued on their way, until Ash perked up and said, "I think this might be it." He walked straight up toward the window, but shuddered upon the sight of Houndoom. The others gathered beside him and appeared similarly disturbed by the Pokémon's mangy appearance. A young male was in the room with Houndoom, but he hadn't noticed Ash and friends yet; he was instead focused on the needle he had in Houndoom.

"Hey..." Bonnie pressed her face closer to the glass. "Isn't that Gary, Ash?"

"Huh?" Ash's eyes widened. "It is! Gary?" Ash knocked on the window, trying to get his attention, and it worked. Gary's head shot up, but it wasn't the only attention Ash received. The Houndoom's thin eyes cracked open, revealing the disturbing shade of purple he had in his scleras.

Gary recoiled back. He muttered a curse aloud as the Houndoom came to life, not sparing a moment for grogginess. Houndoom rose up and snarled at Gary before leaping toward him, but Gary managed to dodge, and Houndoom ended up flying into a table, scattering multiple medical instruments as he did. Gary darted out of the room and shut the door behind him, leaning up against it as he sunk to the ground, his breath heavy. Houndoom began throwing himself at the door. The others were stunned by the scene that had just unfolded before them.

"What are you guys doing here?!" Gary demanded. "You're not allowed to be back here!"

"Are you?" Misty threw back.

"Touché."

The commotion brought Nurse Joy, now awake, and Abby running down the hallway.

"What's happened?" Nurse Joy asked when she reached the group. "No trainers in the Pokémon Center are allowed in the ICU unless one of the Pokémon admitted belongs to him or her, or if they are an approved volunteer!"

Houndoom threw itself against the door, and the distinct sound of wood splitting reached their ears. He was trying to break down the door.

"Audino, bring me the tranquilizer!" Nurse Joy called out. Sure enough, Audino soon came ambling down the hallway with a white, hand-held tranquilizer gun to give to Nurse Joy. She took it and looked pointedly at the group, saying, "Go to the other side of the window and distract him."

Ash nodded, quickly scrambling to knock on the far right side of the window to get Houndoom's attention. It worked, as Houndoom now jumped up against the window, barking wildly and barring its cracked and broken teeth. Slobber, pink with blood, trailed down the glass as Houndoom's jaw came unhinged again. Nurse Joy threw open the door and pointed the tranquilizer gun at Houndoom, and before he could think to attack her and escape, a dart was in his backside, and he slumped to the ground.

Serena let out a shaky breath. The others appeared similarly horrified, too. Nurse Joy, on the other hand, looked relieved as she went back into the room and tried to hoist Houndoom back onto the table. Abby went in to help her, and once Houndoom was secure, Nurse Joy checked his jaw again and walked back out, shutting the door again.

"He's going to need surgery for a third time," she sighed. "Please, I know you all must be curious, seeing as this is the Pokémon that killed Mr. Rebolledo's Torterra, but the situation is delicate."

"We're really sorry Nurse Joy," Ash said. "We had no idea this would happen."

His Pikachu also hung his head, offering an apologetic squeak.

Nurse Joy frowned before turning toward Abby.

"Did you know anything about this?" she asked. Gary spoke up before Abby could say anything.

"No, she had no idea we were here," he said. "We were just being stupid. We're sorry for the trouble."

Abby drew her arms around herself, while Nurse Joy folded hers.

"I think it might be best if you left right now," Nurse Joy said.

The group sheepishly returned to the lobby, Audino trailing behind them this time to ensure they didn't cause any more mischief. As soon as they were there, however, Ritchie turned to Gary and asked, "What were you doing back there anyway?"

"Same thing as you, I presume," Gary replied. "Trying to get answers."

Ash appeared guilty as he said, "I'm sorry, Gary. I ruined it. You looked like you were doing important stuff, and I ruined it."

"It's cool, Ash." Gary waved it off. He then reached into his front breast pocket, pulling out a vile of blood. Somehow, he had managed to successfully save it even after Houndoom had woken up. "I got exactly what I needed."

* * *

The office phone rang as soon as Iris stepped through the doors with Cilan and Trip in tow. Without missing a beat, she swept by it and ripped out the plug, effectively killing the call. She then pulled out an easel fit snugly in a space between the wall and the bookcase full of things she had and never would read, set it up, and then went for the bulletin board leaning against her desk. She put it up on the easel, finding it fit there almost perfectly.

"Okay," Iris breathed, addressing both Cilan and Trip, as she took a step back. "Looking at this board and thinking about last night—about Torterra being killed—what is the first thing that comes to your mind?"

"Is this supposed to be a riddle?" Trip asked dryly.

"Kind of," Iris said.

"How many other Pokémon have been killed by this Houndoom?" Cilan asked, immediately understanding what his wife was getting at. "If these incidents are connected, this board tells us how many Pokémon were attacked by Houndoom, only to later turn on their trainers. But how many other Pokémon are there that are like Torterra, that were killed before they got the chance to also mysteriously exhibit aggressive behavior?"

"Ding!" Iris beamed. "I knew there was a reason why I married you."

"To be honest, though," Trip began, "I'm more curious _why_ these Pokémon are turning violent than how many have been affected."

"Obviously, we're going to have to look into that, too," Iris said, "and we will. The trainers' names are in these articles. As far as we know, all of them, except for one, are alive. We'll have to talk to them. The G-Men has database that, while totally sketchy, lists every person whose ever legally gotten a trainer license, and it'll have their picture and phone number and address and stuff. I don't know how to use it, though, and I don't think I even have access to it. Leaf does, but she's not here, and I'm not waiting. So I wanna start with this. I think it'll give us an idea of how big this thing is, of what exactly we're dealing with."

"Fair enough," Trip conceded.

"How can we know how many Pokémon have been killed, though?" Cilan posed the question calmly.

"That's easy," Trip answered dismissively. "Where do you take a Pokémon when it dies? The Pokémon Center. They cremate the Pokémon and give the trainer the ashes. It's a free service. Pokémon Centers keep a record of all the Pokémon that die, too, for like a year, I think. We can call Pokémon Centers and ask Nurse Joy to send us a log of all the Pokémon that have died in the past month. It probably won't account for any wild Pokémon that might've been killed, or trainers who chose to bury their own Pokémon, but it's something."

"There are _hundreds_ of Pokémon Centers in Unova, though." Cilan frowned. "To sift through the causes of death for that many centers, just to see if any are listed as being killed by a Pokémon, which may or may not even be Houndoom..."

"Can't we narrow it down somehow?" Iris asked.

"We can." Trip nodded. He went up to the bulletin board and pulled off one of the articles. "This is one about the trainer being attacked by a Houndoom, the one that later escaped from the police station before it could be admitted to a rehabilitation facility. The dateline reads Mistralton City, Unova."

"So we need to look at every Pokémon Center between there and here," Cilan mused.

"Right," Trip affirmed. A phone began ringing. "Iris, that's yours."

Iris blinked before reaching into her pocket and pulling the device out.

"Hello?" she answered tepidly.

"_Hey._" Zoey's voice emerged from the other side. "_Just calling to check in. I tried to go the professional route and call your office phone, but the line went dead after one ring._"

"Oh, that was you?" Iris asked sheepishly. "Sorry, I disconnected the phone as soon as it rang. I was thinking it was probably someone I didn't want to talk to, like that lady from Coordinators Weekly."

"_Yeah, about that..._" Zoey trailed off. "_That's actually the reason why I originally called. I'm trying to prepare a press release, and I'm sure the G-Men are, too. I thought it might be a good idea to collaborate._"

"For sure," Iris agreed. "Leaf would probably know more about it than me, though. I don't have anything to do with press releases outside of being the subject of them."

"_I figured you would be less of a pain in the ass to talk to than Leaf, though,_" Zoey admitted.

"That's probably true," Iris conceded. She paused, thinking. "Okay. I don't know how much I can help you or the CIU, but if you come down here, I'll show you what I've got."

_**June 19th, 2009. Afternoon. Location Unknown.**_

N had felt particularly lonely since returning home.

Certainly, he was happy to be back with his sisters, Concordia and Anthea. They had worried dearly for him while he was missing, and for that, he apologized. Yet, he was wracked with a guilt he couldn't shake off. Speaking with Ash Ketchum had been an enlightening experience, with his personal stories and philosophies contradicting everything Ghetsis had ever told him about Pokémon Trainers. He felt bad he had been pulled away from him, before he could keep the promise he had made to Leaf.

He had expressed these feelings to Ghetsis privately, to which Ghetsis scoffed and told him Ash and the G-Men were only telling him what he wanted to hear, so they could get the information they needed to bring down Team Plasma and uphold the institution of Pokémon training. That made N feel worse. It certainly didn't help that Ghetsis wasn't letting him leave home for now; as Ghetsis put it, the G-Men would try to get their hands on him again.

N wandered down the hallway aimlessly, wondering what he should do that day. The first few days spent indoors had not been so terrible, as Ghetsis had gifted him with an algebra textbook, and N had whittled away his hours solving the problems within. He liked arithmetic, because there were _always_ answers to the questions. He could work through the steps, calculate the numbers, and reach a solid, unchanging conclusion. Math was black and white; the answers were either right or wrong. It was a satisfying hobby, but he grew bored of it after a while and needed something else to keep him occupied.

He paused his trip, however, when he heard Ghetsis and Colress's voices emerge from the other side of a crack-open door. N stopped and peered inside out of curiosity, seeing the two men standing together. He hadn't known Colress had come. Although he and Ghetsis were close, Colress rarely came there. He usually had his own projects to which he needed to attend.

"I do not see the problem," Ghetsis said, flipping through the pages of a magazine Colress had handed him. "This is more than we could have asked for. We wanted this to grab the nation's attention, and the death of a Champion's Pokémon does it for us."

"I agree that this can give us the stage we desire," Colress replied. "But we must be cautious, as to ensure we maintain our control, and I am afraid we could lose it. I was afraid that would happen when the police station in Mistralton City _idiotically_ lost that Houndoom before it could reach SAMPLe's rehabilitation facility."

"Clearly, it ended up working out in our favor."

"For now, it has. But it would do you well to remember, Ghetsis, that if this gets more out of hand, it will end up working against us than for us."

"Come now, Colress, haven't you always had a taste for chaos?" Ghetsis asked wryly.

"I do," Colress conceded. "We have fifteen Pokémon to which that Houndoom spread its infection on its runaway adventure, but are there others? Others we don't know about? It could multiply very quickly, to where it's too much for even us to control."

"If there are, we will find them," Ghetsis said simply. "Don't worry yourself."

"I would worry less if we had a cure," Colress admitted.

"And you will find it in time."

"I don't have the proper funding to pour into researching it," Colress said. "That's where Christopher Rogers was supposed to come in. I don't know if his son, Drew Hayden, will pull through for us. Even if he does, will it be in time? He is in charge of the CIU movement. He does not plan to address his father's fortune until the CIU reaches its end."

"It may reach an early end in failure, if the fear of the infection drives him to shut it down," Ghetsis pointed out.

Colress hesitated.

"That is true..."

"Moreover, even if Hayden fails to follow his father's original wishes, there is always Iris," Ghetsis went on. "We had always hoped to drive her to us. This may do it."

"That is also true."

"See? Then there is nothing to worry about."

"You are right as usual, my dear friend." Colress suddenly perked up, looking toward the door, where he noticed N. "Hello there, Natural. Please, no need to spy. Come speak with us."

N was embarrassed—and a little scared—he had been caught, but he quickly shuffled inside nevertheless.

"What's this all about?" N asked.

"We're just discussing our plans to move along the liberation of all Pokémon," Ghetsis dismissed.

"An infection, though?" N pressed.

"It is a _good_ infection," Colress assured him, placing a hand on N's shoulder. "It helps them bring out their true power and rebel against their trainers."

"Oh..." N trailed off. "I've never heard of a 'good' infection. But wait, what about this Torterra that died?"

"That was due to the negligence and brutality of the trainers." Ghetsis held up the magazine, Coordinators Weekly, and N shuddered at the terrible cover. "You see this? This is the aftermath of a Pokémon battle. This is why Pokémon battles are bad. It cost the life of that poor Torterra, and left Houndoom in that terrible condition. Let it only drive the impetus to liberate all Pokémon."

N's bottom lip quivered as he hung his head. Both anger and sadness washed over him.

"How can... How can trainers be so cruel?" he asked, his voice shaking.

_**June 19th, 2009. Afternoon. Opelucid City.**_

Leaf found herself nodding off on Paul's sofa as she tried to read one of the novels she had snatched off his bookshelf. He had eventually decided to give him space, to leave him to his own in his bedroom. She still wasn't willing to leave the apartment, though, so she was staying until she could come up with a better solution.

She was jolted out of her sleepiness when her cell phone rang. She maneuvered herself to retrieve the device.

"Hey, Gary?" she answered, picking up.

"_I have some potentially bad news._"

"... Potentially bad news?" Leaf asked wearily. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"_Confession: This morning I went to the Pokémon Center to see that Houndoom, so I could get a sample of his blood. I drew a vial without the permission of Nurse Joy,_" he explained.

"Please, for the love of Mew, tell me you haven't been arrested," Leaf groaned. "If you're going to break the law, please don't get caught."

"_I wasn't. Or, I was caught, but I wasn't arrested,_" Gary clarified. "_Ash and friends came by to check out Houndoom themselves, a commotion ensued, and we got kicked out. That's aside from the point, though. I managed to hold onto the vial of Houndoom's blood, and I ran some really basic tests and..._"

"And what?" Leaf prompted.

"_I can't say for sure, Leaf, but there are some indicators that this Houndoom has Virus X, the virus I studied in my thesis._" Gary's voice took a serious turn.

"What?" Leaf straightened up, confused. "No, that's not possible. It's something else. I thought that virus was supposed to be millions of years old, and no one had found it anywhere except in those Lileep you studied. Those Lileep are in Hoenn. How would it get all the way to Unova? You even said it wasn't easily spreadable among the Lileep without intervention."

"_Yeah, about that,_" Gary coughed. "_Don't know if I didn't tell you or if you just don't remember, but one of the Lileep were stolen from Mauville University. I checked, and the timelines match up. That Minccino attacked its trainer after the Lileep was stolen._"

Leaf let out a shaky breath, sinking into her seat.

"You're sure it's Virus X?" she asked.

"_No, that's the thing. I'm not sure,_" Gary admitted. "_I don't have the tools to run the tests I need to confirm it. I was going to use the Pokémon Center's facilities to do it, but like I told you, I got kicked out. It's why I called it 'potentially bad news.' Although, I've got to admit, Leaf, this theory of mine has got more credence than I wish it did._"

"But it could be something else?" she pressed.

"_Could be,_" he replied. "_Don't bank on it, though._"

"What do you need to confirm it?" she asked.

"_I'm trying to make some phone calls, work some connections, so I can get into a lab at a nearby university,_" Gary said. "_That's not why I called, though. I do think this Houndoom is the same Trip was talking about yesterday when he brought in that bulletin board. The trainer's name is in the article._"

"Let me guess: You want the trainer's number to speak with him or her."

"_No, __**you**__ are going to want that trainer's number,_" Gary corrected. "_You were right when you said that the virus is hard to spread from Lileep. That means if it is Virus X, and it came from one of those Lileep, it wasn't an accident. Someone had to have purposefully infected a Pokémon with it. Whether Houndoom's a part of that or not, I don't know. But the implications are bad._"

"How bad?"

"_Disastrously bad._" Gary didn't sugarcoat it. "_My team and I had a theory that Virus X was zoonotic. That means it can affect multiple species—including humans._"

"And Minccino's trainer died," Leaf breathed, as the scariness of the possibility began to set in. "And if it makes Pokémon as violent as Houndoom..."

"_Now you see what I mean?_"

"Yeah..." Leaf ran her fingers through her hair. "Okay. I'll go back to the gym, and I'll get that trainer's name."

"_You're not there now?_"

"No," Leaf replied. "I'm at Paul's still. I'll call someone to come keep him company. Agent Gray, maybe."

"_How's he doing?_"

"Need you even ask?"

"_Got it. Stay safe, okay?_"

Leaf frowned as she rose to her feet.

"Don't say things like that."

* * *

"Arceus, this is..." Drew didn't finish his thought, unsure of what to say as he stared at the bulletin board before him. Zoey stood at his side, also taking in the collection. He slowly turned back toward the group, asking, "You think all this ties into what happened last night?"

"It's just as theory at this point, but it is one we now are taking seriously," Cilan answered, his laptop positioned on his knees. They had made several calls that morning to a variety of Pokémon Centers, and the first batches of death logs were beginning to arrive by email.

"Now are?" Zoey inquired, also turning toward the group.

"I first brought this to their attention yesterday," Trip answered for Cilan. "Before Torterra..."

Silence fell—and as it did, Leaf pushed open the door and walked inside. Her troubled expression turned puzzled when she saw that Zoey and Drew were there.

"Hi, you two," she greeted.

"Hey. We heard you went to see Paul this morning. Is he all right?" Zoey asked.

"Mm... No." Leaf didn't bother concealing it. "I don't know what else you would expect, though. I called Agent Gray and asked her to go hang out in his apartment until tonight, at which time I'm going to have to figure out a slightly longer-term solution."

"Why are you sending people to babysit him?" Trip asked. "If he wants to be alone, then let him be. I don't blame him."

Something clicked in Zoey's head. She bit her tongue and looked away.

"It's so..." Leaf began, but she ended up scrapping the sentence. "Anyway, it's my thing to deal with. Don't worry about it. What are you doing here, Zoey and Drew?"

"We saw the article this morning and thought it would be a good idea for the CIU to team up with the G-Men for damage control," Drew answered, but Leaf furrowed her eyebrows.

"Article?" she inquired. Zoey reached into her bag and unfurled a copy of Coordinators Weekly, handing it to Leaf. The Indigo Champion's breath caught when she saw the cover; Cilan, Iris, and Trip paused their activities as well to see what had Leaf looking so stricken, and they ended up looking horrified themselves. Iris pressed a hand to her face, sighing as she saw herself in the cover photo.

"Oh Mew..." Leaf began flipping through the pages, looking at the story. "Who is Ciara Skelley, and why does that name sound familiar?"

"Ciara is the most popular reporter for Coordinators Weekly, and you've probably heard of her before, because she's the same person who wrote the series of stories on Kyle and Barry," Zoey muttered bitterly. "She was covering the event last night, and I didn't notice her leaving the press area."

"Is she the same person who tried to interview Iris yesterday?" Cilan inquired.

"Mhm," Zoey hummed.

"And who made vague threats against you?" Trip jumped in.

"Wait, time out." Drew turned to Zoey. "She made threats against you? What kind of threats?"

"_Nothing._ Nothing important, at least," Zoey insisted. "She thinks herself powerful since the fallout with Barry, and there's no need to stroke her ego and act like we're afraid of her. That's why it would be good for both of us to get out in front of it now, to say we're investigating the incident."

"And what exactly are we investigating right now?" Leaf asked.

"We're trying to figure out if there were any other Pokémon that might have been killed by this Houndoom, looking at reports from Pokémon Centers," Iris explained. "So far, we have a 'maybe.' A Pokémon Center on Route 7 lists the cause of death for a Venipede as being killed by a wild Pokémon, which could be Houndoom."

"Dawn said that Houndoom wasn't wild," Zoey pointed out.

"It could easily be mistaken for one, though, since the trainer isn't around," Cilan said. "Houndoom was an escapee from a police station in Mistralton City. And with the rabid look about it..."

"Speaking of that trainer, I need their name so I can get their phone number," Leaf interjected. "Whoever it is, we need to have a chat."

"We were hoping to get that, actually," Trip admitted. "It's Summer Morana. Her name was mentioned in the article."

"Good." Leaf nodded.

"Leaf, if you're going to talk to this person, would you mind if we came, too?" Drew asked. "I want to be involved in this."

Leaf paused, casting him a cautious glance. She pressed her lips into a hard line.

"No," she decided. "You just need to focus on the CIU and planning your special contest."

"From what I'm hearing now, about these attacks and the possibility that _more_ Pokémon have died," Drew began frankly, "I'm not so sure that special contest would be a good idea. I want to know more, try to get a feel for what the scope of this problem is, so I can make an informed decision."

"Do _not_ shut down the CIU because of this," Leaf said firmly.

"I wasn't saying I was shutting it down. I just need to know what's going on," Drew pressed.

"And we'll keep you updated," Leaf tersely replied. "We're not going to send out a press release today, though. I'm saving it for tomorrow, after we hopefully know more."

"What do you expect the CIU to do then?" Zoey asked.

"Hold off, too?" Leaf suggested. "It's just a day. Since Wallace is here in Unova, I'm going to ask him to take up the reins on the damage control for this incident, and I'll be sure to put him in contact with you guys."

"We wanted-" Drew stopped himself, before he could get too frustrated. "Fine. We'll be expecting to a call from Wallace tomorrow then. Come on, Zoey."

Zoey frowned and retrieved her copy of _Coordinators Weekly_, beginning to follow Drew out.

"Thank you for having us, Iris," Zoey said politely.

"Thank you for coming," Iris replied. As soon as they disappeared, shutting the door behind them, Iris turned her eyes toward Leaf, glaring as she said, "What was that all about? Don't cut them off."

"We need to call a meeting with Georgia," Leaf said, ignoring Iris's admonishment. "We're going to need to put off the announcement that she's your pick."

"Again?" Iris huffed.

"It wouldn't be in good taste with what happened last night—with you on that cover," Leaf said calmly. She turned her eyes toward the bulletin board again. "And FYI, Iris—having your Chief for the G-Men would make things a whole lot easier right now."

Iris fell back, casting her gaze toward the ground.

"Yeah. I know," she said quietly.

* * *

"Hey." Serena knocked on the half-open door to the room in which Clemont was staying before poking her head inside. "We're going out to get some dinner with Ritchie and Ash. Do you want to come?"

Clemont was hunched over his desk, pencil in hand, doodling something on a complimentary notepad; yet, he snapped his head up when Serena spoke.

"No Misty?" he asked.

"She apparently went to a meeting."

"Well... okay!" he agreed. "Just give me a moment."

He rose up and glanced into the mirror, trying to pet down the piece of hair sticking out near the back of his head; Bonnie often gave him a hard time about it when they went out in public ("I'll never find a wife for you if you look like this!" she'd moan), and he wasn't in the mood for it tonight with the gloomy atmosphere that had infected even their little group from Kalos (which, Clemont inwardly conceded, might mean Bonnie wasn't going to give him grief, but he decided it was better to be safe than sorry). Serena, meanwhile, meandered into the room, waiting. Her eyes caught sight of the drawing on the notepad.

"What's this?" she asked, picking it up.

"Oh that? Just a couple of ideas for an invention I was getting down..." Clemont answered. "I was inspired, I guess you could say, by that Houndoom. It was hurting itself trying to escape when it woke up. I was just thinking, there should be something for that..."

"Never a day off, huh?" Serena smiled tiredly.

"Guess not," Clemont chuckled. "Come on, let's go."

* * *

"I'm really sorry about this," Iris apologized with a sigh. "I hate that we have to keep making you wait..."

She sat across from Georgia, though they were not alone in the office. Cilan, Trip, Leaf, and Gary were also present; yet, they were not necessarily participants in the conversation. Each had a laptop out and were pursuing their own lines of work. Iris hadn't bothered to ask them to leave when Georgia arrived for what would end up being a brief discussion.

"Nah, it's fine," Georgia dismissed with a wave of her hand. "I pretty much figured this was going to happen after last night. Do you have any idea how Paul's doing?"

"Why does everyone ask that?" Leaf muttered, speaking up.

"Because... sympathy?" Georgia craned an eyebrow. "I'd fall apart if I lost Beartic."

"There, you said it. Now you know how he's doing." Leaf paused, her eyes moving toward the corner of her laptop screen. It was starting to get late.

"Fair enough," Georgia conceded. "Do you know when we're going to announce the nomination now?"

"Several days? I don't know." Leaf shrugged.

"Cool," Georgia said dryly. "Well, if that's all, then I'm leaving."

She stood up, slinging her bag over her shoulder. Trip snapped his laptop shut.

"I'll walk you out," he said, also standing. She gave him an odd look, but didn't say anything to protest.

"See ya later, Iris." Georgia saluted her as she left with Trip on her tail.

"Yeah... see you..." Iris mumbled.

As Georgia and Trip started heading down the hallway, she asked, "So, was there something you needed to talk to me about? Here to rub the fact you were right in my face?"

"What?" Trip gave her a strange look.

"I laughed it off when you made that dumb bulletin board," Georgia elaborated, "and as it turns out, you were right about it, and everyone else—including me—was wrong. I'd be gloating now, too."

"I'm not gloating," Trip said. "Really, if this turns out to be as serious as I hope it isn't, then I wish I would've been wrong and that none of the attacks were a big deal."

"I guess the more mature way of looking at it," she mumbled. "Why are you following me, then?"

"Look, I just wanted to make sure you got to your car safely," Trip sighed. "I'm not all that comfortable with friends going out in parking lots alone at night right now, since one got attacked yesterday, and a Pokémon ended up dying."

Georgia smiled at him wryly as she pushed the elevator button.

"It's cute that you think I'm a friend," she said.

"You know what I mean." Trip glowered at her as the doors opened and they stepped inside.

"I'm not opposed to it," Georgia clarified coolly. "I just think it's cute."

Trip stared at her, unsure of what to say. He found himself saved, however, when the elevator doors opened again, and they were greeted by a familiar face.

"Hi, Trip," Misty said, standing outside the doors.

"Misty?" Trip blinked. "What are you doing here?"

"Leaf called and said she wanted to talk," Misty answered in short. Her eyes moved toward Georgia. "You're Georgia Hamilton, right? I know we've met a couple times, but I don't think we've formally introduced ourselves." She held out her hand. "I'm Misty Waterflower. I'm a member of the Indigo Elite Four. I've heard that you're supposed to fill the vacancy in the Unova Elite Four."

"Yeah... supposed to," Georgia drawled, shaking her hand.

Misty offered her a crooked smile.

"Anyway, I'll let you guys be on your way," she said, trading places with them in the elevator. "Nice seeing you."

When the doors closed, Georgia pursed her lips and cast Trip a wondering glance.

"So..." she began, addressing him, "is there a standard where I should helping out with what's happening upstairs?"

"Mmm... No. Not really," Trip answered. "Elite Four members mostly do their own thing, separate from the Champion. You don't see Caitlin or Shauntal or Marshal hanging around here. But, Leaf and Misty are pretty good friends, and it's not uncommon for a Champion to pick an 'adviser' figure out of their Elite Four—someone who is privy to what's going on, someone who keeps the Champion's power in check. Paul doesn't have one. I think Phoebe and Wallace are decent enough friends."

"Does Iris have one?" Georgia asked.

Trip looked at her as though the answer was obvious.

"You," he said. "At least, you're supposed to be."

* * *

"I think I've found her," Leaf announced suddenly, her eyes still on her screen. "Summer Morana. 17-years-old. Hometown is Goldenrod City, Johto. Johto—that's where Houndoom originate."

"Are you going to call Ms. Morana?" Cilan inquired.

"I wouldn't have looked her up if I wasn't." Leaf pulled out her cell phone, dialing the number. She rose up and headed out into the hallway, so she wouldn't disturb the others. It took several rings, but the other end of the line finally picked up.

"_Hello?_" a groggy male voice answered.

"Hi, my name is Amanda Norie," Leaf greeted. "I'm-"

"_-Who the hell calls at this hour?_" the man cut her off.

"Ooh, right. Sorry. I forgot it's later there in Johto than it is here," Leaf said apologetically. "I'm just looking to speak with Summer. We're old friends, and I haven't been able to get ahold of her for a while."

The line fell silent for a long moment, and Leaf began to wonder if he had hung up on her. Then, he said, "_Summer isn't here right now. She's in Unova._"

"What a coincidence. I'm in Unova, too." Leaf inwardly celebrated. She had the right person. "Do you happen to know where she is?"

"_In the Mistralton City Hospital ICU._"

Leaf's silent praises ended. A chill ran up her spine. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Misty coming up the hallway. The Elite Four trainer stopped to wait, noticing she was in the middle of a phone call.

"Why... Why is she there?" Leaf asked.

"_She's been very sick recently,_" the man said gravely. "_Her mother, my wife, is with her right now. I was there last week, but I had to come back. I run a business here, and the medical bills are piling up. I'm sorry you had to find out this way._"

"I see. ... Please send her my best wishes." Leaf didn't know what else to say. "Well, I'm sorry for bothering you."

When Leaf ended the call, Misty asked, "What was that about?"

"Nothing," Leaf mumbled. "Glad you could make it here."

"What did you want to talk about?"

Leaf let out a cleansing breath, knowing she needed to regather and refocus herself.

"I heard about what happened this morning," she said evenly. "About you and Ritchie and Ash and his Kalosian friends trying to check out Houndoom."

"Ugh," Misty huffed. "Gary. That snitch."

"You need to keep Ash out of this." Leaf wasn't laughing, which caught Misty off guard. Leaf was usually willing to engage in banter; in fact, she was usually the one to initiate it. "What happened isn't any of his business."

Misty scoffed.

"Every episode of Ash's life is about helping people solve their problems, even though they are 'none of his business,'" she said. "This is actually personal, though—not just for Ash, but for a lot of people. For all fifteen of us, because Paul is one of us."

"And I _get_ that," Leaf affirmed. "He's worried about Paul and wants to help. We're all worried about Paul. But this is G-Men territory, and he shouldn't be involved. I can't let the lines blur, Misty, not just a couple days before the Championship match."

"The lines _are_ blurred," Misty pressed. "Ash has been in the G-Men's territory for basically his entire life, and you know that. Weren't you the one to who pulled together all those G-Men reports of Ash saving Legendary Pokémon, of him being the Chosen One, when you were first trying to establish the Ash Connection seven years ago? The impartiality clause won't change or erase that."

"Yeah, Gary said something similar," Leaf mumbled.

"Because it's _true_."

"Just keep him at bay, okay?" Leaf sighed. "The match is Thursday, and our plane leaves Wednesday. It shouldn't be that hard."

"Leaf, do you honestly believe that match is going to happen on Thursday?"

Leaf stopped, staring at Misty with wide eyes.

"I... I mean..." Leaf shook her head. "I can't really _cancel_ it at this point. Goodshow would have my head. It's not like I can push it back, either, because it'll conflict with the Hoenn League, which is supposed to be starting pretty soon." She paused. "Totally unrelated question: Aside from Dawn, who do you think in our group cares the most about Paul?"

"Uh..." Misty blinked. "Either Ash or Barry, I'd say."

"Well, Ash is a no," Leaf mused. "But Barry... He and Kenny are staying together right now, aren't they?"

* * *

"I wonder how Dawn's doing..." Kenny trailed off as he scrubbed one of the plates in the kitchen sink. Barry and Kenny had recently returned to their apartment, where the dishes, unfortunately, were beginning to pile up. He'd made Barry clean it up last time, so now it was his turn. "Maybe I should send her a text."

"Not a bad idea," Barry replied thoughtlessly. He was laying on his back on a sofa in the conjoined living room, tossing a hacky-sack up and down and catching it. "Just make sure you're doin' it for the right reasons, a'ight? You don't wanna be a rebound guy."

"I'm not doing it because of that." Kenny scowled. "I'm doing it because she's my friend, and because she went through a traumatic experience yesterday. I was with her when she found out Torterra died. Arceus, it was awful..."

The two men perked up when they heard a knock at the door and then they exchanged confused glances.

"Were we expecting someone?" Kenny asked as he dried his hands and went to answer. His eyebrows shot up upon seeing whom their visitor was.

"Hey, Leaf," he greeted, blinking.

"Hi," she said shortly, though amicably. "Can I come in?"

"Sure..." He held the door open for her, and she quickly strode inside.

"Yo, Leaf." Barry saluted her when he saw her, though he seemed as bemused as Kenny. "What are you doing here?"

"I need to ask a favor of both of you," Leaf said simply, getting straight to the point.

"Uh... What is it?" Kenny asked.

"I need you to move in with Paul for several days," she answered. "Keep an eye on him, make sure he's not alone for too long. Agent Gray will be there throughout the day, but someone ought to be there at night, too."

Kenny and Barry both appeared taken aback by this seemingly strange request, but given time to think more deeply about it, they found it a little unnerving.

"What... are you implying?" Kenny asked cautiously.

"Don't mind that." Leaf brushed off the question. "Just do this for me please."

"Yeah, no," Kenny replied, dragging out his vowels. "I don't think it'll go over really well if Barry and I just show up on his doorstep and ask to spend a couple nights there for no apparent reason, especially when there has probably never been a time in his life when he has wanted not to be bothered more than he does now."

"Tell him you came home to a leak that had flooded your apartment," Leaf suggested. "You only live several blocks away. It makes sense you would go to him for a place to stay."

"No, it doesn't," Kenny contended. "Even if we were in an alternate universe where Torterra hadn't died yesterday, we would still not go to Paul's apartment. We would get a hotel room."

"I would go to Paul's apartment," Barry interjected.

"See? Barry would go to Paul's apartment," Leaf said lightly, gesturing toward the blond for emphasis.

"This is stupid, Leaf." Kenny rolled his eyes.

"It isn't, actually," Leaf persisted, sounding a hint more serious.

"I'm not going to lie about flooding in my apartment just so we can have a sleepover," Kenny said, exasperated.

"Yeah," Barry agreed, albeit hesitantly. "I'm not a fan of lying, either."

Leaf was starting to look frustrated, too, but she soon let out a sigh and fell back.

"Fine," she said. "I understand."

"You do?" Kenny was surprised Leaf was giving in this quickly. Leaf, he knew, was the type to fight until she got what she wanted—whether by words or by other means.

"It's not fair to ask you guys to lie," she conceded. She paused before asking, "Before I go, would you mind getting me a glass of water? I walked here."

Kenny looked relieved; she seemed genuine, which was good for him. He was not in the mood to get into a spat with the Indigo Champion.

"Sure," he said, figuring it was the least he could do. He walked toward the cupboard, opening it up and retrieving a glass for water. Leaf followed him into the kitchen, though she headed past him, toward the sink. Kenny failed to notice this however, as he opened up the fridge and pulled out a pitcher of water.

"You want any ice?" he asked as he poured water into the pitcher.

"Ice is great," Leaf mumbled as she bent down, opening up the cupboards beneath the sink. She reached inside and pulled a toolbox halfway out, enough to see her options in the light. She picked a wrench. She shoved the toolbox back inside and straightened up again, turning on the sink.

"Okay." Kenny nodded as he turned toward the freezer, scooping out some ice cubes and dropping them into the water. It was then Kenny turned and realized Leaf was up to something. "Wait, Leaf, what are you-"

Too late. Leaf took a powerful swing at the faucet, knocking off the entire head. Water sprayed violently into the air, hitting as high the ceiling. Barry sprung to his feet, having heard the commotion, and he and Kenny stared at the broken faucet and then at Leaf in disbelief.

"Now you have a leak," Leaf said, dropping the wrench.

* * *

"_So, Jerry, tell us,_" the anchor began, sitting among a roundtable of guests. "_How do you think the death of Torterra is going to affect Paul, not just personally, but also publicly? Is there a chance he may resign from the Championship position, even though he's only held it for a year?_"

"_Well, that's a tough question to answer,_" Jerry mused. "_Although Mr. Rebolledo maintains a stoic image, it's safe to assume he is nothing short of devastated. We know Torterra was his first Pokémon, and they've been competing together for many years. Trainers react differently when one of their Pokémon pass. Some come back stronger than ever, some re-evaluate their training methods, some quit entirely. Whether he decides to resign, however-_"

Dawn breathed in sharply when the television suddenly clicked off, her arms wrapping around Piplup even tighter than before. She glanced up to see Zoey standing behind the sofa, remote in hand, pointing it toward the cable box.

"Dawn, you can't torture yourself like this," Zoey gently chastised, lowering her arm.

"I'm sorry," Dawn apologized. "I meant to watch something mindless, some sitcom or soap opera, but I ended up on the news channel and..." She trailed off, shaking her head. "I also meant to get dressed and go to the office. But that didn't happen either."

"No one's mad," Zoey told her, sitting beside her. "Not even Ursula made a snide comment."

"I've got to be pretty low for even Ursula to think she can't take a swing," Dawn mumbled. "I plan on going back tomorrow."

"Don't go back before you're ready," Zoey said firmly. "Everyone was understanding when Drew was away for _three weeks_ because of his dying, estranged father. I think we can spare you a couple days."

"I don't want to be away any longer," Dawn insisted. "I'll just stew in it if I do. I shouldn't have even stayed home today."

Zoey frowned.

"Did Paul eventually get back to you?" she asked.

"No," Dawn answered shortly. "Did any of you hear from him?"

"Leaf went to his apartment for a while."

"Did she say anything about how he was?"

"You probably don't want to know."

Dawn closed her eyes, leaning her head back.

"Right..." she said. "It's just... It's so upsetting, because I know there were definitively three things Paul loved in this world: Reggie, Cedar, and Torterra. And now one of them is gone."

"You don't include yourself on that list?" Zoey asked.

Dawn let out a bitter laugh.

"Hard to say."

.

.


	14. XIII: In Which Leaf Begins to Crack

.

.

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Chapter XIII: In Which Leaf Begins to Crack

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_**June 20th, 2009. Early Morning. Opelucid City.**_

Time was something Paul knew he could manage effectively. When he was younger—when he still actively traveled—he regimented his days to where he could cover the most distance, make the most of his training, and still care for himself and his Pokémon. When he came became Champion, however, it was no longer just him and his personal affairs he needed to oversee. He suddenly had an branch of the G-Men to manage, a league to run, and countless other responsibilities and inane obligations to fulfill, all within a complex, corrupted system where linearity did not exist.

That was when control—over himself, over his title—began to slip from his fingers.

Paul could not remember the last time he had squandered an entire day. Yet, Thursday had bled into yesterday, and he could hardly distinguish yesterday from today. In the span of that time, of hours running off his hands and dripping down his wrists, he had not done a single thing of merit. There came a point where he, trying to hold true to what he told Leaf, let out his Pokémon to explain what had happened. He couldn't do it—but somehow, they understood anyway, and were now mourning, too. He hadn't even been able to feed them himself; Agent Gray had done it. They hadn't seen each other (she had the grace to know her superior would not want to be seen), but he knew she was there, at least up until last night when he finally slept for the first time in more than thirty-six hours.

When he woke up that following morning, it occurred to him he had not eaten in nearly as long a time. He rose up, mechanically brushing his fingers through his hair, before opening the door and heading down the hallway. He was not prepared, nor was he happy, to find two visitors in his kitchen.

"Paul!" Barry scrambled to stand from the his seat at the counter. Kenny appeared mildly alarmed, too.

"What are you two doing here?" Paul glowered at them.

"I-I knocked on your door last night to try to tell you we were here, but you said, 'Go away,'" Barry said.

"Why didn't you?"

"Our apartment sprung a leak," Kenny explained shortly.

Paul stared, then shook his head as he let out a short breath.

"Whatever."

He headed for the cupboard, pulling out a box of cereal, and then to the fridge, retrieving milk and orange juice. Kenny and Barry exchanged tentative glances before Barry rounded the other side of the counter to face Paul as he poured his cereal.

"So... how are you doing this morning?" he hesitantly asked. Paul lifted his gaze toward Barry, glaring. He reached for a carton, opening it up.

"Um, Paul, you're pouring orange juice into your cereal," Kenny said, trying to point it out as gently as possible. Paul stopped, setting the carton down and staring at his bowl.

"I don't... even... care." He picked up the bowl, grabbed a spoon, and headed back to his room, slamming the door behind him shut.

"I think I'm starting to get why Leaf wanted us to keep an eye on him," Barry said, and Kenny nodded.

* * *

It was the little things, Drew realized, that he appreciated the most about May.

Rarely did she wake up before him. When she did, it was usually because he'd had trouble sleeping. May seemed to know that—and so, when those mornings came, she did what she could to make them just a little bit easier through small and simple things. She couldn't cook (Drew didn't let her near the kitchen unless someone was there to stop her from throwing odd ingredients into otherwise basic recipes, or from setting the stove aflame); so she took other routes.

Like laying out his toothbrush on the bathroom counter, toothpaste already applied. Just to let him know she was thinking about him.

By the time Drew had washed up and gone through his other morning rituals, he found May had already fed his Pokémon, too; they were just finishing up breakfast. May herself was at her laptop, nibbling on some toast.

"Good morning." Drew swept down to peck her on the lips, catching her by surprise. "Thank you for all this."

"Oh... It was nothing," May said, when she realized what he was referencing. "Were you okay last night?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Drew hastily replied. "I've just had a lot on my mind with my father, and Torterra, and then Leaf being... Leaf."

"What about your father?" May frowned.

"It's nothing to worry about."

"Don't do the same thing to me that Leaf's doing to you," May gently chastised.

Drew's lips tightened. Then, he said, "Really, it's just things I only plan to deal with once we're through with the CIU. So I just have to set it aside in my mind for now."

May didn't look wholly satisfied by this response, but she shrugged, saying, "Okay." She perked up when her phone buzzed, and she picked it up to read the text she had received.

"Who is it?" Drew asked.

"Max," May answered. "He and my parents want to spend time with me today."

"Message him back and tell him you will," Drew said without a moment's hesitation.

"Well, I don't want to dip out on the CIU..." May trailed off.

"It won't be like that," Drew persisted. "You ran the movement while I was gone. You deserve a break. Besides, this is your family, and they're only here 'till, what, Wednesday?"

"I also feel bad because Solidad and Harley and the other panelists are supposed to be flying back today..."

"Don't. They'll understand," Drew assured her. "You don't get to see your family nearly enough, and one day, you might regret that you didn't."

Drew didn't mean for it to sound so morbid; nor did he think to consider what his own words implied, what they reflected upon himself. A long silence fell anyway, punctured only when May let out a long breath and nodded as she picked her cell phone back up.

* * *

"I'm sorry I couldn't stay longer," Abby apologized to Nurse Joy wearily, standing separated from her by the front counter.

"Oh, please don't feel the need to apologize, Abby," Nurse Joy assured her. "You've been a huge help these past couple of days. I couldn't imagine how I would have survived them without you."

"We're not in the clear yet, though..."

Nurse Joy smiled sadly.

"I know," she conceded. "But I think I might have a better handle on the situation now, at least."

Abby knew Nurse Joy was only saying this to make her feel better. The situation hadn't changed, and they were both still at a loss of how to handle it. She sighed.

"Well, please call or email if there are any issues you want to talk through," Abby said.

"I will." Nurse Joy nodded. "Thank you for all your hard work. Have a good flight."

"Thank you. Goodbye." Abby turned, heading for the double doors leading outside. Yet, she happened to be intercepted by none other than Ash, who was on his way to the cafeteria with Pikachu.

"Hm? Abby, are you leaving?" he asked, stopping her.

"I'm afraid I am," Abby confirmed tacitly. "As much as I wish I could keep helping out with this..." She paused, considering which word she should use. "... situation, I have to back to my clinic in Hoenn. I need to go pack and check out of my hotel so I can meet with Drew Hayden in about three hours."

"Hey, it's understandable," Ash said. "What about that Houndoom, though?"

"Nurse Joy will have to continue to caring for him on her own." Abby sighed before adding, "Although, I have to say, things aren't looking too bright for him."

"What do you mean?"

"Houndoom has undergone four surgeries now to correct and re-correct his jaw, due to him consistently reversing the fixes we make," she explained. "Houndoom _should_ be sent to a rehabilitation facility, but he must be fully recovered before then. His behavior is making that difficult. It may come that Nurse Joy will have to put down Houndoom, even if it's an ethically gray area, since Houndoom has a trainer."

"Putting down Pokémon?" Ash looked alarmed, and Pikachu folded his ears.

"It's rare, but it happens," Abby said gravely. "And it might happen with Houndoom. If a Pokémon is not returned to its Pokéball after thirty days, the return function will cease to work and the Pokémon would technically have to be re-captured by the trainer if he or she wants to put the Pokémon back in its ball. Some argue this means the Pokémon is free of its trainer, but others rightfully point out that there are some trainers who keep their Pokémon outside of their Pokéballs." Abby smiled weakly as she reached out to pet Pikachu. "Not unlike you and Pikachu."

"Yeah..." Ash trailed off. "Gee, I don't know how I feel about that. I don't think Houndoom should be put down anyway, but..."

Misty appeared in the lobby with Ritchie and Serena in tow, her eyes darting around the area until they found Ash.

"It's a complicated issue," Abby said.

"Ash!" Misty called out to him, grabbing both his and Abby's attention as she approached. "We've been waiting for you."

"Sorry about that," Ash sheepishly apologized. "I woke up late and then I got caught up talking with Abby." He turned his gaze back toward the doctor. "I guess you need to get going, though, huh? Sorry for keeping you."

"That's all right." Abby waved it off. "Good luck with your match Thursday."

"Thanks..." As soon as she had left, Ash turned toward his companions, asking, "Do you think if we talked to Leaf, she could help us find Houndoom's trainer?"

"Uh... what?" Misty blinked.

"I want to find Houndoom's trainer," Ash clarified.

"Mm," Misty intoned, unsure. "Ash, I really... don't... think it's any of our business." She had to force herself to say it. "Besides, you have other things you need to focus on. Like Abby said, your match is on Thursday. You should go to the battle club and get in some last-minute training."

"Er..." Ash was surprised Misty was trying to deter him. "I don't really want to go to the battle club. I don't think I could go back, with what happened..."

"Then..." Misty wracked her brain for another excuse. "Why don't you and I have a battle? It doesn't have to be at the battle club. We can find a field at one of the local parks. Ritchie can ref."

Ash perked up at that.

"You and I battling?" he asked.

"Yeah." Misty nodded.

"Well... okay!" Ash agreed. His stomach rumbled, and he let out an embarrassed laugh, clutching it. "But first, breakfast."

"Sounds like a plan," Misty said with a smile as he passed by. When he was out of earshot, Misty let out a long, relieved breath.

"The match is still happening?" Ritchie asked, quirking an eyebrow at her.

"Mhm," she hummed, nodding.

"... What makes you think otherwise?" Serena asked, addressing Ritchie.

"When I heard Leaf had called Misty in last night to talk, I was thinking she might want to discuss putting off her and Ash's match," he answered.

"So did I, to be honest," Misty admitted. "But no, it's still on."

"Wait, I'm confused." Serena made a time-out gesture with her hands. "Why would Leaf delay the match?"

"I mean, if you were in Leaf's shoes, would you be willing to leave at a time like this?" Ritchie asked rhetorically. "It's not a matter of her just being able to leave for a day, have a battle, then come back and pick up where she left off. There's a lot on the line here. If she loses, she's done. She no longer has the power to exert control over the situation or help it."

"That doesn't... make sense..." Serena said slowly.

"Yeah, well," Misty began, giving her a quick pat on the shoulder before following Ash, "not many things do here."

* * *

"_Good morning. You've reached the non-emergency line for the Pewter City Police Department. If you know your party's extension, please-_" Leaf immediately pressed '7' and waited as the phone rang; she had called enough police departments in her years to know how the system worked.

"_Hello, this is Amy on the non-emergency line for the Pewter City P.D. How may I help you?_" the kindly voice of a young woman asked when the call patched through.

"Hi, this is Champion Leaf Greene, ID 012904 in the G-Men. I'm giving this to you in case you want to call the G-Men HQ at the Indigo Plateau to confirm it's me speaking," Leaf began calmly, though seriously.

A pause.

"_M-Ma'am?_" The woman on the other line was evidently surprised she was speaking with the Indigo Champion.

"I need to request a copy of a case file," Leaf continued. "I do not have the case number, but I'm hoping you'll help me find it."

"_... Certainly,_" Amy said, recovering. "_Do you have a time frame for when this case occurred?_"

"It would have been filed about 14 or 15 years ago, so anywhere from 1994 to 1995?" Leaf estimated. "I don't have the full name either, but last name should be Rebolledo. No, wait. Not Rebolledo. Blair. B-L-A-I-R. Rebolledo was the maiden name."

Leaf heard some typing on a computer as the woman searched by her specifications.

"_I have a case filed on March 9th, 1994 for the suicide of a woman named Lucia Rebolledo Blair,_" Amy said after a while.

"That's it. That's exactly what I wanted." Leaf straightened up. "Can you fax me a copy?"

"_I can._"

"Okay. It's..." Leaf scrambled to find the piece of paper upon which she had scrawled the code. "1-212-9876543."

As she read the numbers aloud, Gary appeared in the doorway to the bedroom and leaned against the frame, waiting for her to finish.

"_I'll have it taken care of as soon as possible._"

"Thank you," Leaf breathed. "Thank you very much."

Gary spoke when she hung up.

"So I have news," he began casually.

"Good or bad?" Leaf asked, turning in her chair to face him.

"Can't say. Neutral, really." He shrugged. "I got access to a university lab, but you'll never believe where."

"... Where?"

"Some folks at the Mistralton School of Life Sciences are expecting me this afternoon."

"Really?" Leaf's eyebrows rose. "Mistralton City?"

"Yes, really." He smiled wryly before asking, "You still interested in meeting Summer Morana? The university and the hospital are less than a mile apart, and Cilan lent me the keys to his car."

"That's surprising."

"Life has a way of working out sometimes, I guess."

"No, not that," Leaf corrected. "I meant Cilan giving you his keys."

"Are you coming or not?" Gary rolled his eyes.

"Yeah." Leaf stood up, stretching before pulling her hair back into a ponytail. "I'm still _very_ interested in meeting Summer Morana."

* * *

"Okay, so," Iris began confidently as she strode toward the coffee table in her office with a large, frayed sheet of paper rolled up in her hands, "I did some digging around this office, and I found this." She began to unfurl the sheet, spreading it out on the table. Trip quirked an eyebrow, giving it a once-over before looking at Iris.

"A really big map of Unova?" he inquired.

"It would be nice to mark where these attacks happened and at which locations a Pokémon possibly killed by Houndoom died," Cilan remarked.

"Yeah! That's what I was thinking!" Iris exclaimed before turning and snatching up a small cylindrical container on her desk. "I found some pushpins Drayden left behind in one of the drawers, too, just for that."

"Perhaps we could go a step further and color-code them," Cilan suggested. "White for attacks, red for deaths."

"Mm..." Iris intoned, lifting up the container to take stock. "It's a good idea, but I'm not sure we have enough of those colors."

"It's not a big deal," Trip dismissed. "I'll go to the store now."

He retrieved his bag and headed for the door; yet, as he did, he nearly ran into Georgia, who had decided to come in just as he was going out.

"Sorry," she hastily apologized.

"Georgia?" He looked confused, as did Iris and Cilan. "What are you doing here?"

"I guess..." She sounded uncharacteristically uncertain. "I was just wondering if there was anything I could do to help? I probably should have called first."

"You... want to help?" Iris drew back in surprise.

"I have a laptop," Georgia said, gesturing toward the bag hanging from her own shoulder. "Are you still trying to find if that Houndoom killed any other Pokémon? Do you want to forward me some of those logs?"

"We... We are," Iris replied.

"I can forward you some," Cilan offered.

"Great." Georgia brushed past Trip and sat down, reaching into her bag to pull out her computer. Iris and Cilan exchanged a furtive glance, while Trip watched her with an indiscernible expression. Cilan noticed when Trip's gaze remained unbroken for a moment too long, and he cleared his throat.

"Trip?" he inquired gently, getting the photographer's attention.

"Hm?" Trip looked back at Cilan.

"The store."

"Right." Trip quickly turned and disappeared from view.

* * *

One thing Dawn didn't like: stares.

Staring was different than watching. She was used to be watched; she enjoyed the thrill of standing on stage, of performing with her Pokémon. The eyes of her audience were adoring, and they were welcomed. Stares, on the other hand, were invasive; they were full of disgust, or pity, or confusion, or unsavory intentions.

When she walked into the office that day, her presence was met with a few stares, and immediately, she didn't want to be there. She didn't want sympathy, especially when she was the one who didn't need it—and the person who did deserve it wouldn't want it either. She pressed forward anyway, finding her desk and beginning settle in for the day. Zoey followed her; their workspaces were situated next to each other.

"Hey..." Kenny came up to her cubicle, resting his arms on the low walls. "How are you feeling?"

"Me? Oh, I'm fine." Dawn quickly waved it off. "Glad to be back here, at least. How was everything yesterday?"

"Here? Well, there certainly weren't any celebrations." Kenny shrugged.

"Kenny and I have kind of had a wild night, though," Barry remarked, joining Kenny.

"... Wild night?" Zoey asked dryly.

"So, Leaf came and-" Barry stopped short when Kenny elbowed him in the side, giving him a pointed look. "What? Are we supposed to keep it a secret?"

"Keep what a secret?" Drew asked as he passed by. "What did Leaf do?"

Kenny let out a long breath and briefly glared at Barry.

"Nothing major. She just wanted us to spend a couple of nights with Paul," he said.

"Also, she broke our sink with a wrench," Barry added, and Kenny swore for a moment he might have punched him. Dawn's face fell as realization, as understanding began to set in.

"What?! Why would she do that?" Drew asked.

"... She was trying to give us a legitimate excuse to move in with Paul," Kenny begrudgingly explained. "I'm mad about it, but at the same time, it's hard to be mad about it."

"That's really extreme," Drew said warily. "Why would she be so dead-set on you two..." He trailed off, and his expression changed as a thought occurred to him. "Arceus, does she think Paul's suicidal?"

"Whoa, wait, what?" Barry's eyes widened. "I mean, he was _off_ this morning, but I wouldn't have thought—how would she have even thought that?"

"She was the only person to speak with Paul yesterday," Zoey pointed out.

"It's because of me," Dawn cut in suddenly. "It's because of some things I told her last week. It's not any of our business, and it wasn't even any of mine. Let's not talk about it."

A brief silence followed.

"Dawn..." Kenny began carefully, but she turned away in her chair.

"I didn't want this to be a group affair," she said quietly. "That was a big part of why everything went downhill for him and I."

Zoey's lips tightened.

"It's hard when you're a part of a tight-knit group," she said. "Secrets don't stay secret, and once all fifteen of us know, they're at risk of escaping our circle—too many people know by then."

"Amazing how we've managed to keep one then, isn't it?" Drew remarked. The comment garnered a couple surprised gazes but no words. Their attention, however, was drawn toward the door as a guest walked through, his arrival being met with a few gasps.

"Why does everyone always act so shocked when a Champion shows up here?" Ursula half-sneered under her breath. She wasn't sitting far from Dawn and the others. "Shouldn't this be expected by now?"

Her remark was ignored as Drew rose up to greet their visitor.

"Hi, Wallace," he said, shaking his hand.

"Good morning, Drew," Wallace greeted pleasantly. He cast his eyes about the room. "Is May not here today?"

"No, she's with her family." Drew shook his head.

"Ah, I see." He smiled. "I, myself, had the pleasure of breakfast this morning with my cousin. He's packing now, to my understanding. When must you leave to take him and the other panelists to the airport?"

Drew quickly checked his phone.

"Two hours," he said.

"More than enough time to write up a joint statement about the CIU and the G-Men working together to carry out an investigation regarding Thursday's events, wouldn't you agree?" Wallace inquired.

Drew's lip twitched into a smile, too, as relief crossed his expression. Zoey stood up, realizing this was her area.

"Definitely," she said.

"Yes," Drew added, agreeing. "Thank you, Wallace. We really appreciate it."

Dawn soon tuned out the conversation. She reached into her bag and pulled out her phone, typing out the plea "Please call me" before hitting send.

_**June 20th, 2009. Noon. Mistralton City.**_

Hospitals were hit-and-miss when it came to visitations. Some bent the moment they learned she was the Indigo Champion. Others held their resolve, refusing to let her inside at will so easily. Leaf wasn't sure what type of hospital the one in Mistralton City would be, but she had an idea the moment the receptionist's face lit up when she saw her.

"Madam Champion... ?!" the receptionist appalled when she approached the front desk.

"Hi," Leaf greeted amicably. "I'm here to see a patient: Summer Morana?"

"O-Of course. Let me look her up." The receptionist turned to her computer, typing. "She's in room—Oh..."

Leaf furrowed her eyebrows.

"That's not a number."

"Ms. Morana is a minor," the receptionist explained. "So I must request permission from a parent to allow a visitor who is a non-relative."

"How long will that take?"

"Just a couple minutes." The receptionist picked up the phone and dialed a number off the screen. "Hello, Mrs. Morana? This is the front desk. Your daughter has a very special visitor. ... Who? Champion Leaf Greene! I need your approval, however in order for me to..." She stopped, falling silent, and Leaf sensed something was awry.

"What's the matter?" Leaf asked in a low, hurried voice, but the receptionist gestured for her to be quiet.

"No?" The receptionist appeared confused, and Leaf's heart dropped.

"Wait. Let me talk to her," Leaf urged, and the receptionist hesitated before handing her the phone. "Hi, Mrs. Morana? This is Leaf Greene."

"_Why do you want to see my daughter?_"

"I... just want to chat, that's all." Leaf was taken aback by the tone of hostility.

"_Well, she's not in a talkative mood right now._"

"Is now a bad time? When should I come back?" Leaf pressed.

"_Never._" Leaf was shocked as the line went dead; the mother had hung up on her. She drew the receiver away from her head, staring at it.

"I'm sorry," the receptionist apologized, taking back the phone.

"Is there nothing else you can do?" Leaf asked her, half-pleading.

The receptionist shrugged.

"Hospital policy," she said.

_**June 20th, 2009. Noon. Opelucid City.**_

Iris looked up in confusion when the fax machine roared to life, and she glanced toward the others when it began to print.

"Did one of the Nurse Joys we spoke to say she was going to fax us logs?" she asked.

"No... ?" Trip answered, unsure.

"That's probably from Leaf," Cilan said. "She asked me for the code to our fax machine this morning."

Iris stood up and headed toward the machine, waiting for the document to finish transmitting. The machine soon hummed and went silent again; only two pages were printed. Iris lifted the sheets out of the tray and was surprised to find it was a copy of an old police report—from Pewter City, of all places. She read further, and a name quickly jumped out at her. Her breath caught.

"Iris, what is it?" Georgia asked.

"Nothing," Iris said quietly as she turned around, opened her desk, and slid the papers inside. "Cilan's right. It's for Leaf."

_**June 20th, 2009. Afternoon. Mistralton City.**_

Leaf had to weigh her options.

She had gone to a nearby coffee shop to mull over what had happened and what she should do. She knew she could get in to see Summer no problem if she changed her motivations; or, rather, if she expressed her true ones. They could turn away a friendly visitor, but they could not turn away a G-Men agent working on a case. A flash of her ID, and she'd be in the elevator and on her way. It wasn't a stunt Leaf was sure she wanted to pull, though.

There were several ways Leaf could read into the mother denying her visitation, one being that the mother was merely being protective of her sickly 17-year-old daughter. Forcing visitation, in that case, would be in bad taste. The other scenario, however, was that the daughter had something to hide, and her mother knew it. Leaf waving her G-Men agent title around would then be justified. Even so, Leaf wasn't keen on scaring a sick teenager and her undoubtedly worried mother into talking. It would have been much easier for everyone if she had been allowed into the room as a visitor, so she could get the information she needed in a casual atmosphere.

She knew there was one thing she needed to remember, however: A Pokémon had died. And not just any Pokémon, but the Pokémon of a friend and Champion. And there were many other Pokémon that had possibly been killed and attacked. This was what drove her back to the hospital an hour after she left, now with a much more serious demeanor.

The same receptionist she spoke with earlier sighed when she saw Leaf had returned.

"I'm really sorry, Madam Champion," she said. "As much as I wish I could help, non-relatives are not allowed to visit without parent permission."

"I'm no longer here on a charitable visit." Leaf flashed her badge. "I'm here to interview Summer Morana."

The receptionist's eyes widened.

"I..." The receptionist looked bewildered by the change. "She's in Room 512." She pushed a clipboard and pen toward Leaf. "Please sign in."

Leaf nodded and quickly scrawled her information on the paper before thanking the receptionist and heading toward the elevators. Now, Leaf realized, she had to consider what her approach would be. The mother would certainly be unhappy Leaf had come, but would she roll over when Leaf said she was there as a part of the G-Men, or would further convincing be required? Intimidation was never Leaf's favorite method, even if she was quite good at it. Lance had been her teacher, after all.

Once on the fifth floor, Leaf didn't stop to knock when she found Room 512. A woman—whom Leaf could only assume was Summer Morana's mother, considering her graying blonde hair and evidence of age in her face—sprung up in alarm when she saw Leaf standing in the doorway.

"I didn't give you permission to be here," the woman spat, confronting Leaf.

"I no longer need it," Leaf said calmly, though firmly. "I'm here to interview Summer Morana as part of the G-Men's investigation into the death of Paul Rebolledo's Torterra last Thursday."

The woman's face paled and she backed away. Leaf inclined her head, resisting the urge to smirk. Her intuition, it seemed, was correct. They did have something to hide.

"You may stay in the room for the interview; however-" Leaf began again, but she was cut off.

"-Mom?" The voice was small, frail. Leaf turned her eyes to see Summer Morana for the first time. She was struggling to sit up in her hospital bed, and doing so appeared painful. Her hair was dull, flat, and thin; her skin was pale and clammy. A strange purple mark extended up her arm, and Leaf couldn't tell if it was a bruise or something else.

"Summer..." The mother's gaze softened as she returned to her daughter's beside. Leaf felt disarmed, now unsure of what to say or do. She couldn't bring herself to be forceful when standing in the same room as a dying teenage girl—and Leaf knew from the way Summer looked that death was hanging above her head.

"Summer," Leaf started, but she stopped, struggling to figure out how to sensitively phrase her question. "What are the doctors treating you for?"

"They don't know," the mother said stiffly, before Summer could answer. "She just got sick one day."

"Just randomly?" Leaf pressed.

"Yes," the mother insisted.

"Then you don't think this has anything to do with Summer's Houndoom attacking her several weeks ago?"

A pregnant silence followed, and Summer shriveled up, bringing her legs closer to her. The mother's gaze remained sharp, though fearful. Leaf's suspicions had been incited, but she realized the answers she needed weren't going to come easy.

"What are you doing here?" Summer finally asked, quiet.

"I'm just here to ask some questions," Leaf answered simply.

"Am I in trouble?"

Leaf stared, hesitating.

"No," she decided. A pause. "Summer, what happened when Houndoom attacked you? What led up to it?"

"Nothing," the mother interjected. "Nothing happened."

"I'm not talking to you, Mrs. Morana, I'm talking to your daughter," Leaf just short of snapped, and the mother clamped up. Summer appeared unsure, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"Why are you asking?" she asked.

"Summer, we think we might have your Houndoom," Leaf said frankly. "A couple nights ago, a Houndoom appeared in a parking lot in Opelucid City and attacked a trainer, a friend of mine, actually. Paul Rebolledo, the Champion of the Sinnoh Region, came to her rescue, but his Torterra's throat was punctured by Houndoom's teeth, and Torterra ended up dying that evening. Houndoom is still alive, and he's staying at a Pokémon Center in Opelucid City. We're trying to find some answers."

Summer looked shaken upon hearing this news. Her mother was upset, too, but she appeared to be at a loss for words.

"I don't have any to give," Summer finally replied. "That's not my Houndoom."

"No?" Leaf turned her head.

"No," Summer repeated. "My Houndoom would never. He's headstrong, but he would never kill another Pokémon. I've raised him since he was a Houndour, he would never..."

"But Houndoom attacked you," Leaf reminded. Summer was beginning to look more nervous.

"That's... That's..." she stammered. Leaf reached into her bag and pulled out the most recent issue of _Coordinator's Weekly._

"I'm sorry to show you something so graphic," Leaf said, holding the cover out to her. "But this is serious. If this is your Houndoom, I need to know it. And if it is, I need to know more about the attack."

Summer's lip quivered.

"I don't know what to tell you," she said, wrapping her arms around herself. "My Houndoom is a good Pokémon. He wouldn't. He just wouldn't."

Leaf was hitting a wall. It was difficult to get far when she wouldn't even admit the Houndoom was hers. Leaf's inward considerations of what to do next were interrupted when she felt her phone vibrate in her back pocket. She pulled it out, glancing at the screen. It was a message from Gary, and it caused Leaf's heard to drop.

'The sample tested positive. Houndoom has Virus X.'

"Is something wrong?" the mother demanded suddenly, and Leaf's head snapped up.

"N-No." Leaf's voice wavered. "Um..." She dug around in her bag again and pulled out a pen. She opened her copy of _Coordinator's Weekly_ and scribbled her number on the inside of the cover before handing it to Summer.

"I think there's more for you to say, Summer," Leaf said, trying to keep her tone even. "Please call me when you're willing to say it. For now, I... I need to go."

_**June 20th, 2009. Afternoon. Opelucid City.**_

"I think my greatest regret of this trip," Harley began as he pulled his luggage out of the trunk of Drew's rental car, "is that I never got Robert's number."

He and Drew were standing near the curb outside an airport terminal. The other fliers—Solidad, Robert, Nando, and Abby—were a short distance away and, having already retrieved their luggage, were waiting for Drew and Harley to catch up. Drew glowered at Harley as he shut the trunk door.

"You know Robert's married, right?" Drew asked.

"Has that ever stopped me before?" Harley replied with a smirk.

"I didn't know you went after married men, but I suppose I shouldn't be surprised." Drew shook his head. "I don't know how Solidad puts up with you."

"I don't how how May puts up with you," Harley threw back.

"Because we love each other?" Drew answered as though it were obvious.

"Well, there you go," Harley said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Same for good ol' Sol and I."

Drew gave him a strange look but followed him to join the other panelists. The light conversation between the other four halted when they arrived, and Robert was the first to speak again.

"Thank you, Drew, for inviting us to be here," he said graciously. "I wish you and the rest of your staff the best of luck."

"As do I," Nando added. "I excitedly await the day contest halls open in Unova."

"Thank you, Robert, Nando," Drew said. "Thank you to all of you, really. The panel wouldn't have been what it was without you."

"Well, now that we're all here, I guess we should go get checked in." Abby's tone carried a stiff sadness; the vibrancy that was present in her the day she arrived had fallen by the wayside. The others agreed as they followed her inside. Solidad, however, lingered behind for a moment longer.

"So this is goodbye for now, huh?" Drew asked.

"I suppose so," Solidad sighed. "I feel bad leaving at a time like this."

"Don't worry about it," Drew assured her. "I'm feeling better now that Wallace has been by. I'll handle it fine."

"I know you will." Solidad nodded. "It's not the just the CIU, though. So much has happened in the past few days, with Torterra, with your father..."

Drew pursed his lips.

"Well, it hasn't all been bad," he said. "It's been stressful, but I suppose it's put things in perspective—in a good way."

"Perspective?"

Drew paused.

"Would you like to know a secret?" he finally asked.

Solidad raised her eyebrows, but said, "Shoot."

Drew was silent for a moment, considering how he should word his response.

"When we've finished up with the CIU..." he began carefully, "... I'm going to ask May to marry me."

Solidad's jaw nearly dropped.

"What? You're serious?" When he nodded, she asked, "When did you decide this?"

"It's been stirring around in my head for more than a week now, thanks to something my father said—as surprising as that might seem," Drew answered. "I started to think about it a lot more seriously at his funeral, but I knew for sure this morning."

"W-Well, I'm..." Solidad stumbled over her own words and laughed. "I'm thrilled! I've always wanted for this to happen, and I supposed I'm in shock that it is now. Of course, it's very like you to tell me something like this right before I'm supposed to leave."

"Sorry," Drew apologized. "Just thought you might want to know."

"I'm certainly glad I do." Solidad smiled wryly before adding, "But don't think that means I won't want to hear more about this later."

"Noted."

Solidad turned to leave, but she stopped herself, facing him again.

"One more thing," she said. "When the special contest comes—I _will_ be back."

_**June 20th, 2009. Afternoon. Mistralton City.**_

Leaf felt like she couldn't breathe.

Her chest had become constricted, and she was beginning to feel lightheaded. She had left Summer Morana's room in a hurry, knowing it would be bad if she ended up breaking down in front of her. _That_ would surely lead to a few unwanted headlines.

Leaf found an unoccupied family restroom down the hallway and she quickly opened it up and locked herself inside. She immediately went to the sink, clutching the porcelain edges, now trying to gasp in air. She reached for her phone again, her hand shaking as she dialed a number and lifted the device to her ear.

"Please pick up," she pleaded. "Please pick up."

"_Leaf?_"

"Lance," Leaf bleated.

"_What's the matter?_" he asked, immediately sensing something was awry.

"I just—I don't—" Her voice was growing watery, and she stopped to swallow. She hated crying in front of Lance, even if it was over the phone. "I don't know what to do. I don't know how to handle this anymore."

"_Handle what? Leaf, please explained what's happened,_" he said firmly. "_And breathe._"

"Okay, so—" Leaf's voice remained uneven as she turned and leaned against the wall, trying to stabilize herself. "—so, Gary's thesis. I don't know if I ever told you anything about it or if he mentioned it to you, but it was about this virus. It's this really weird virus that makes Pokémon stronger and more aggressive. Last month, one of the Lileep he and the other researchers had found it in was stolen from Mauville University. Then—then there were these attacks in Unova, and one of them was a Houndoom, but it escaped before it could be properly quarantined. And this Houndoom, we think it's attacked other Pokémon, and we think it's the same one that killed Torterra."

"_And this virus... ?_" Lance calmly prompted.

"Gary went to see Houndoom yesterday, because he was suspicious." Leaf still couldn't shake the sick knots forming in her stomach. "He thought it might have this virus, and his initial tests said yes, but he wasn't sure—and I guess I was just hoping for the best, pretending it wouldn't happen, but Gary just told me it's for sure. It has the virus. But this not just innocent stat increases and an attitude problem. Iris has been doing some digging with Cilan and Trip, and they think there's other Pokémon. They think there's other Pokémon that have died. This virus, in modern Pokémon, it's dangerous. Gary said it can affect different species of Pokémon and humans. I saw Houndoom's trainer just now. She's dying, Lance. I think maybe she has it, too, and it's killing her. There was another trainer, also attacked by a Pokémon, that died."

Leaf began to sink, sliding her legs out against the tile.

"Who knows how many other Pokémon have been infected? Who knows how many other Pokémon are running around carrying this? There's been eighteen cases of attacks recently. All those trainers... and what about the ones we don't know about?" She posed the question weakly, afraid to think of the answer. "Ash and I are supposed to battle on Thursday. I can't leave now. I can't..."

She buried her face in her hands.

"_Leaf..._"

"I think I understand now," she cried. "I think I understand why. Why it's this way, why matches are thrown to the Champion, why nothing gets done, ever. Because things like this happen. I couldn't leave this to Ash. But I don't want to... I don't want to get stuck in the rut where I get to hang onto my title because I say so. It's not right."

"_What about Iris and Paul?_"

"Arceus, don't even—" Leaf let out a bitter laugh. Yet, her lips quivered, and her eyes watered again. When they spilled, Leaf quickly wiped them away. "Lance, I think Paul might be in trouble. That's the other thing. Dawn entrusted me with trying to get him help. I don't know if I'm doing it right, but I have to do something, and I can't leave him now. He said something that really scared me, that told me he didn't care if he was alive or dead—and I don't know if he's going to hurt himself or not, but I can't take that risk, and I can't risk losing on Thursday, and losing the access I need to make sure he doesn't."

"_Then don't risk it, plain and simple,_" Lance said.

"It's not that easy. I don't want to screw this up. Ash getting a fair match, Ash winning, Ash becoming the Champion... It's a shot at making things better. It can begin to set things straight."

"_And it won't matter, if this virus is as serious as you make it sound,_" Lance pressed. "_Leaf, I realize you have your ideals; I realize you and Iris and Paul want so much to make things better. But you have to face the truth of the matter: You need to push that match back, and you need to solve this._"

"What will I say?" Leaf asked, almost angrily. "What excuse can I give? And the Hoenn League is in July. It's not like I can push it back very far. It'll overlap, and it'll mess everything up, and then the chance for Ash to become Champion will be unsalvageable."

"_Sacrifices have to be made,_" Lance said. "_You have to be willing to let go. If you're not willing to publicly talk about this virus yet, and I wouldn't, then use Torterra's death as a scapegoat. Use that as your reason for putting the match on hold; it will buy you time to sort things out. As for the Hoenn League—talk to Wallace. No, I'll talk to Wallace. I'll tell him to put the Hoenn League on hold, too._"

Leaf's breath caught.

"Another... another standstill?" The horror in her tone was evident, as the reality of how serious the situation was began to set in. "Like the one seven years ago?"

A brief silence followed.

"_You must do what you must,_" he finally said.

Leaf pushed her hand through her hair before letting it fall to her side. Her tears had stopped.

"I know. You're right," she said quietly.

"_I will come and I will help._"

"No," Leaf rejected. "I have to do this on my own. I'm going to fix this. We'll talk to the other trainers. We'll find the other Pokémon. We'll make a cure. But I'm not letting go of the match with Ash. I've come too far to let it go. It will happen, even if it doesn't happen now. I said I wouldn't let you down, and I won't."

_**March 18th, 2003. Evening. Viridian City.**_

"You know, you'd think someone who works in law enforcement wouldn't break the law," Gary commented dryly, his arms folded as he watched Leaf begin the climb up a chain-link fence, right next to a rusting sign that read 'No Trespassing.' Leaf paused and threw a flirty smile his way.

"You'd think wouldn't you?" she said teasingly. She moved a foot up and, realizing Gary still hadn't budged, glowered at him. "Oh, come on. What's changed? I would expect Cilan or Drew to act like a straightedge, not you."

Gary shrugged, but smirked as he jumped onto the fence, too, climbing over the top with much greater ease than Leaf. She huffed. She should have known. He was wanting to show off.

Leaf finished her climbed to the top and tried to position herself to jump to the other side, but doing do caused a dull pain to suddenly ripple through her lower abdomen. She gritted her teeth, trying to ignore it. Although it had been a year since Domino had tried to kill her, there were times the pain returned, when she twisted her body the right—or rather, the wrong—way. Gary seemed to notice, and he helped catch her on the way down.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she mumbled.

They had been there many times before. Neither had known an abandoned amusement park was in the area, but when they stumbled across it one evening, they couldn't resist taking a look around. Now, it was where they spent much of their time together. It was a place they could meet, just the two of them; a nice middle point between Pallet Town and the Indigo Plateau.

"You know," Leaf began as they passed by an old carousel, her hand catching his, "when I'm Champion, I should consider restoration projects a part of my to-do list. After I dismantle the government and put it back together, of course."

"Will you still have that kind of power after that?" Gary questioned.

"I think it'll be reduced, but I don't think it will ever go away. Not all of it," Leaf replied. "I don't know. I haven't figured it all out yet. I wish I could talk more to Iris and Paul about it, and I would if it weren't for Lance and the others essentially giving us gag orders. And I get that. Things would fall apart in a bad way if it came out that the next generation of Champions have already been lined up."

"Yeah, speaking of which, how are they planning on making that happen?" Gary asked.

"Lance hasn't talked about it yet, actually," she admitted. "I know whatever it is, though, it will make sense. It has to. It begins to unravel if it doesn't. There's a reason Lance erased me from the story. Three kids from Napaj's most famous conspiracy becoming Champions would raise eyebrows."

They settled down on a grassy hill overlooking an outdoor performance stage, the roof of which had since collapsed in on itself. The hill was peppered with both weeds and wildflowers.

"So what was it you wanted to talk about?" Leaf asked after a moment.

Gary paused, hesitating.

"I... uh..." he began, unsure of what exactly he should say. "I got an internship offer."

Leaf broke into a smile and let out a short laugh.

"Gary, that's great," she said.

"It's in Sinnoh."

Leaf's smile diminished, as she suddenly realized why he was acting so serious.

"Oh."

"Professor Rowan gave me a call a couple days ago and told me someone had donated a couple Pokémon fossils. He thought I might be interested in returning for another internship to study them," Gary explained. "I told him I'd think about it."

"Think about it?" Leaf scoffed. "What's there to think about? Of course you have to take it. Fossils are your thing. You want to be a paleontologist and research ancient Pokémon."

"Sure, but..."

"But what?" she demanded.

"What about you?" he asked.

"I'll be fine," she said, quickly waving the question off. "I'm used to it being the Lance and Leaf brigade. And if you stay behind because of me, I will punch you in the face every single day, and you will think to yourself, 'I should have gone to Sinnoh, because now my nose is broken.'"

He laughed and leaned in to kiss her.

"Thanks," he said when he pulled away.

Leaf smiled crookedly and folded her arms into herself.

"So... when are you supposed to leave?" she asked.

"About that," Gary began tepidly. "It's two days—early Thursday morning. So, if I go, tonight's actually the last time we'll see each other in a while, because I'll have to pack."

Leaf nodded slowly. A sense of sadness began to swell inside her, but she didn't let it rise to her face and affect her expression. She threw her head back and hummed, thinking.

"Well, if tonight's your last night, then I guess we ought to make it a good one," she decided.

Gary raised an eyebrow.

"And what would you suggest, Ms. Greene?" he asked.

Leaf's lips spread into a sly smile as she brought them close to his again.

"I can think of a few ideas."

_**March 19th, 2003. Morning. Indigo Plateau.**_

"Where were you last night?" Lance asked when Leaf walked into his office that morning, the first he had seen of her since yesterday afternoon. He didn't impose a curfew, nor did he intend to, but it was unusual for Leaf to disappear all night. In fact, he had begun to worry something bad might have happened to her not long before she walked inside.

"I was just hanging out with Gary," she replied, shrugging as she bent down to a mini fridge (her idea, not Lance's) stationed beneath a desk and pulled out a bottle of water. Lance grunted in response but returned to his work.

Leaf sat down and unscrewed the cap of her bottle, taking a drink. She had figured the conversation had ended and now she and Lance would go about their normal, daily business—but he soon spoke again.

"Did you use protection?" he asked in a deadpan voice.

Leaf coughed, nearly spitting out her water, though a little drop dribbled down her chin.

"_What?_" she asked, wiping her mouth.

"There are far too many young couples in Napaj who get pregnant while they're teenagers," Lance said tiredly, lifting his eyes toward her. "Please don't be one of them."

"Arceus, Lance, can we not have this conversation right now?" Leaf groaned. "In fact, can we not have this conversation _ever_?"

"Just making sure."

"Well, there's nothing for you to worry about," Leaf grumbled. "Nothing happened, anyway."

"That's a lie," Lance said bluntly.

"Okay, _yes_," Leaf conceded. "But it only happened one time."

"That's also a lie."

"Are you just going to assume everything I say is a lie?" Leaf huffed.

"Liars can't lie to liars, Leaf," Lance said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Well, whatever. We _have_ been safe this entire time, so let's just drop it," Leaf said, lifting her water bottle up to her lips again. Her skin had flushed a light shade of pink; she was still embarrassed by the topic.

Lance didn't accuse her of lying this time.

"Good," he said simply, "because you getting pregnant now would ruin your chances for becoming Champion."

Leaf quirked an eyebrow.

"Chances?" she challenged. "I thought it was pretty much set in stone at this point."

"It never is."

Leaf turned her head.

"Is there something you're not telling me?" she asked.

Lance paused. Then, he sighed and set down the pen with which he was writing, so he could give her his full attention.

"I'm releasing you from duty in the G-Men," he said plainly, and Leaf felt as though a stone had dropped into the pit of her stomach.

"W-What?" She scrambled to stand. "What did I do wrong? Is this about Gary and I? Because, just so you know-"

"-Leaf, I _do not_ care whether you and Gary are sleeping together or not, as long as it doesn't result in a fetus," Lance cut her off, pressing a hand to his face. "And you didn't do anything wrong, either. I'm releasing you so you can go travel—so you can go make a name for yourself."

Leaf felt her initial panic subside, though confusion soon replaced it.

"A name for myself?"

"You are 16-years-old, and the only merits you have are eight gym badges for a league you never entered," Lance said bluntly, and Leaf looked annoyed.

"I think I have a lot more merits than that," she contested. "Like, you know, having a large hand in taking down Team Rocket, the largest criminal ring in Napaj. But that's whatever, I guess."

"It's an invisible achievement," Lance said calmly. "I know what you've done. The rest of the world doesn't, and they never will. You don't need to prove yourself to me; you need to prove yourself to everyone else."

"... You need to justify making me the Champion," Leaf said, finally understanding what he meant. When he nodded, she asked, "What can I do?"

"Win a league. Become a Top Coordinator. Climb to the top of the Battle Tower. Claim victories in the Don George Battle Club tournaments. Conquer a Battle Frontier," Lance named multiple suggestions. "You are a talented trainer, but you need something to show for it. Koga plans on retiring in a couple years. You have until then to build your résumé, so there will not be a question of your qualifications when you become a member of the Elite Four and, later, a Champion."

"A Battle Frontier?" Leaf perked up.

"Yes."

"Like the one in Sinnoh?" she pressed.

"If you'd like."

Leaf had to bite her lip to contain her smile.

"Okay," she agreed. "I'll go pack now. I'll leave as soon as I can." She turned away from him, toward the door, but paused before facing him once more. "Lance?"

"Mhm?" he intoned.

"I won't let you down," she said, resolved.

_**June 20th, 2009. Early Evening. Opelucid City.**_

Misty had a feeling when her phone rang.

She had been half-expecting this call all day. Still, it didn't stop the dread from beginning to pool inside her stomach when she checked the caller ID and confirmed her suspicions. She excused herself from the conversation with Ash and company and stepped a respectful distance away before answering.

"Leaf?" she inquired.

"_I need you to send Ash to the Opelucid Gym as soon as possible,_" Leaf said flatly. "_He and I need to talk._"

Misty pursed her lips.

"Is this about what I think it is?" she asked in a low voice. Her question, however, was met with silence, and she knew that meant 'yes.'

"I'll let him know," Misty said quietly before hanging up.

* * *

The last time Iris had seen Leaf vulnerable and afraid was seven years earlier, when she laid bleeding on the floor of a speeding train, tears in corners of her glossy, dilated eyes as she cried barely intelligible apologies to Gary. Iris had helped treat her. Since then, however, Leaf had maintained an image of total self-assurance—and when it wasn't there, she made sure no one knew it through her sharp tongue and temper.

Now, Leaf sat curled up in one of the arm chairs in Iris's office, her arms drawn around herself. She did little to conceal the doubt in her countenance, and that unsettled Iris. If Leaf was visibly nervous, then they all should be.

"So let me get this straight," Georgia began, addressing Gary. "What we're looking at is some kind of virus that makes Pokémon stronger _and_ more violent?"

"That's the general gist, yes," Gary said. "There is minimal research on this virus, and the research that does exist involves a set of Pokémon that lived millions of years ago, and while they were more aggressive after testing positive for the infection, it was not anywhere near this level. We know it affects modern Pokémon differently, and it probably affects humans differently, too."

"How so?" Cilan asked.

"I don't think the virus turns humans violent, for one," Leaf spoke up. "Summer Morana was paranoid and in a lot of pain, but she wasn't unpleasant. I think it just... makes them sick and eventually kills them."

"We've had one person die, Leaf, and we're not sure if it was because of the virus. We can't jump to that conclusion yet," Gary contended.

"Summer is going to die, Gary," Leaf retorted. "I know it. It's coming."

"We're not even sure Summer has the virus," Gary pointed out.

"I am." Leaf remained firm. "You said Houndoom had purple spots on its skin. So did Summer. It's the same thing."

"We need to test for it."

"Summer's not going to give us a sample of her blood," Leaf said.

"It doesn't have to be Summer," Gary persisted. "There are sixteen other living victims we know of. We need to talk to all of them, and if they show the same signs and symptoms, and if we can get just one sample from one of them..."

"I agree, Leaf," Wallace said. "We need facts, not speculations. We must have our information straight and clear for when we go to the public with this. To do otherwise can cause great damage."

"W-When we go to the public?" Iris asked.

"If this virus is indeed as serious as it seems, we will need to issue a public safety warning," Wallace explained. "People need to know what the virus is, how it is spread, and what to do if you believe you or a Pokémon has been infected. And medical providers will need to know how to diagnose and treat it."

"There is no treatment," Gary mumbled. "Not yet."

"'Yet' being the key word," Wallace emphasized. "If we can assemble of team of researchers, yourself included Mr. Oak, then we can begin seeking means for treatment."

"My hands are tied," Gary said. "We can't run experimental tests and treatments with Houndoom because it belongs to Summer Morana, and we would need her permission to do anything. Leaf said Summer won't even admit Houndoom belongs to her."

"After thirty days, he won't anymore," Wallace said.

"What?" Gary gave him a strange look.

"Of course!" Cilan's eyes widened with realization. "If a Pokémon is not returned to its Pokéball after thirty days, the Pokémon technically no longer belongs to the trainer."

"That's such an... ugh!" Iris shook her head. "My Haxorus was never in his Pokéball as an Axew, and he was never not mine. Most of the people in my village choose to raise and train Pokémon without the use of Pokéballs. The only reason any of my Pokémon have Pokéballs is because it's easier when I travel and because I live in the city now, and it's expected here."

"Is it an ethical complication?" Wallace asked rhetorically. "Definitely. But it is something, I feel, we may need to take advantage of. If I'm correct, the last time Houndoom would have been in his Pokéball was the day he escaped the police station in Mistralton City, correct?"

"Yeah..." Trip stood up and went to check his bulletin board. "May 28th."

"Then thirty days will have passed by June 27th," Wallace said. "A week from today."

"So, until then, we have to focus on learning as much as we can from the trainers who've been infected—or, possibly infected." Leaf begrudgingly corrected herself. "And we need to figure out where this virus came from, if it's really from the Lileep stolen from Mauville University."

There was a knock at the door. Leaf already knew who it was.

"Come in, Ash, Misty," she said. The door opened, and the very people she named slid inside. Ash stood at the forefront, yet he received no friendly greeting. Most of the people in the room had trouble looking him in the eye.

"Ash..." Leaf began carefully, but then he spoke.

"I already know why we're here," he said. "At least, I think I do."

"You do?" Leaf inquired. Ash exchanged a quick glance with Misty.

"Our match is being put on hold?" he asked.

Leaf's lips tightened.

"Yes," she said.

"And so is the Hoenn League?"

"Yeah..." Leaf said, quieter. "A press release is going out tonight. I wanted to tell you in person. I promise we will battle, but it won't be now."

Ash nodded slowly, to show his understanding. Then, he asked, "What's going on?"

"A lot of things," Leaf answered. "It's nothing you need to worry about."

"I'd like to know," Ash said, straightforward.

"You don't need to know," Leaf countered.

"Something's happening. I can tell something's happening. I mean—" He stopped, shaking his head. "—You guys are friends, and I can't stand to just sit in the dark and not know what's wrong. I want to help."

Iris had just about had enough. She dropped a hand into her lap and looked straight at Leaf.

"Leaf-" she began, but she was cut off.

"-Iris," Leaf warned. Iris clamped her mouth, looking annoyed.

"The concern is appreciated, Ash," Leaf continued, "but it would be best if you sit this out."

"I don't know how to sit things out," Ash admitted.

"Then maybe you ought to finally go home," Leaf said. "I'm sure your Kalosian friends would appreciate that."

Ash fell back, and he cast his gaze toward the ground.

"... Right," he mumbled. "Well, thanks."

He turned to leave. Misty lingered behind, and when he was gone, she turned a hard gaze on Leaf.

"What are you hoping to achieve with this?" Misty angrily demanded. "What good is ignoring our history going to do?"

"I'm not ignoring it," Leaf argued. "This is a separate issue."

"Ash is the-"

"-He _can't_ be for this," Leaf cut her off. "_You_ told me that Ash said he didn't want to be chosen. I'm not going to deny him that; if he's going to replace me as Champion, he's going to do it because he earned it. Until then, we have to rise up to fulfill our responsibilities _on our own_. We can't rely on Ash this time."

"How do you know it's a separate issue?" Misty pressed.

"What?"

"The last and the only other time the league came to a standstill was, funnily enough, seven years ago when we first came together," Misty said. "This is a repeat of what happened."

Leaf let out a strange laugh.

"A repeat?" she said. "Ash hasn't had any strange visions that would lead me to believe he's supposed to take the reins."

"Yet," Misty said with a sharp click of her tongue.

Leaf stared.

"On a less abstract note," Leaf went on, "if a word of this gets out to the media before we're ready to address it..." She stopped, collecting herself. "This has been seven years in the making. We have come too far to drop the ball now. _I_ have come too far."

* * *

Kenny and Barry both heard the television on in the background when they walked into Paul's apartment, and they knew it meant one thing: Paul was out of his room again. They exchanged quick glances before heading into the living room, where, sure enough, Paul stood in front of the television with his arms folded.

"Hey, what's-" Barry stopped short when the commercial ended and the news broadcast returned.

"_Breaking tonight,_" the anchor spoke. "_The G-Men and Contest in Unova movement have come out with a statement about the death of Paul Rebolledo's Torterra, saying they are launching a full investigation into the incident. Yet, in a surprising move, the investigation has put a temporary hold on all league activities, including the Championship match between challenger Ash Ketchum and Champion Leaf Greene that was supposed to take place Thursday, and the Hoenn League that was set to begin July 11th._"

Paul shook his head and went to sit down, though he said nothing. He didn't bother to acknowledge Kenny and Barry's arrival either.

"Paul?" Barry inquired, but he was ignored.

Kenny stared at the screen blankly for a while, unsure of what to make of the news, and then at Paul, whose expression remained listless as he continued watching the report. Kenny went to set his bag down on the counter, but he stopped when he saw Paul's phone laying atop it, with an unanswered message from Dawn reading, 'Please call me.'

* * *

Drew was nearly shaking by the time he picked up the phone and dialed Leaf's number. He had risen to his feet, pacing the room as it rang, while May remained situated on the sofa, her gaze flicking between him and the television screen.

"_What is it, Drew?_" Leaf asked tiredly when she picked up.

"Leaf, what is this? What is happening?" Drew demanded, turning toward the screen. "The Kanto Championship match and the Hoenn League are being put on hold? Because of Torterra's death?"

"_Yes._"

"Why wasn't I told about this earlier?" he asked. "Wallace met with Zoey and I earlier to release a joint statement."

"_Some things have changed since then,_" she answered vaguely.

"And again, why wasn't I told about it?" Drew did little to conceal his frustration. "The CIU and the G-Men are supposed to be working together to determine what happened—at least, that's what we told the public. Or rather, what _you_ told the public, with the addendum that the league is coming to another standstill."

"_Look, I get you're upset-_"

"-Upset is an understatement."

"_What do you want me to do?_" Leaf sighed.

"Quit cutting me off and tell me what's changed."

"_I'm sorry, Drew,_" she apologized, though she hardly sounded sincere. "_It's a mess right now, and we're trying to sort things out ourselves. We'll let you know more later._"

"That doesn't-" He stopped short when he realized Leaf had hung up on him, and he groaned before falling back on the sofa beside May.

.

.

.


	15. XIV: In Which Burgundy Faces the Truth

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.

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Chapter XIV: In Which Burgundy Faces the Truth

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_**June 23rd, 2009. Morning. Iccirus City.**_

"The doctors believed he would make a full recovery," Kim Than, the mother to the late Adam Than, said, her voice trembling when she spoke. "Of course, he needed the facial reconstruction, but we never imagined he would get sick and die. They think, somehow, the wounds were infected with something Minccino was carrying, but they could never figure out what."

Leaf listened intently to the aged woman as she sat in the family's living room, one leg carefully crossed over the other. Her recorder sat on the table, having received permission from Kim to use it.

"How did they know Adam was sick?" Leaf asked.

"His hair began thinning, and he became feverish and pale. These strange, purple spots began to appear on his skin," Kim explained. "In the last few days of his life, the whites in his eyes began turning purple, too, and his fingers and limbs began twitching. Then, he died."

Leaf slowly nodded. She had heard and seen this story again and again. Over the past several days, she and the others had managed to speak with quite a few of the victims mentioned in the eighteen articles pinned on the bulletin board now hanging in Iris's office, next to a large map of Unova marking all the locations where the attacks—and deaths—had taken place. The symptoms described were always the same. The twitching was, admittedly, new to Leaf; although, to be fair, Adam was the only person of the eighteen who had died thus far.

"These purple spots..." Leaf began tentatively, pulling out copies of photos and sliding them across the table, toward Kim. "... Did they look anything like this?"

Kim tentatively picked one up, silently examining it. She then laid it face-down; she couldn't bear to look at it any longer.

"Yes. Exactly like it," she said.

Leaf sucked in her breath, though she expected this. The photo was of Brienda Andswarian's left leg, which had broken out into the gruesome purplish sores after it was bitten by her Patrat. She was the seventh incident, and she agreed to let sample photos be taken when they visited her.

"Did your son ever talk to you about Minccino? About what happened leading up to the attack?" Leaf asked.

"He didn't, really," Kim replied. "He told the doctors began acting strangely without warning and left it at that."

"There was no other Pokémon involved?" Leaf pressed. "No other Pokémon that attacked it, that would have spread this infection to it?"

Kim's lips tightened.

"No," she answered. "I think Adam would have mentioned that."

Leaf was silent, considering this information. All other victims with whom they had spoken—Brienda's included—had mentioned a Houndoom in their interviews, even if they had said nothing of the sort to the press. Their incidents, however, all came following Houndoom's escape. Adam was the first incident; Summer was the third incident. Thus, it made sense that Houndoom wouldn't be a part of Adam's story.

Yet, Kim's answer still left the question of where the virus came from—if it came from Lileep—unanswered.

Leaf was now curious what the victim of the second incident, Anwir Seachlainn, would say of him and his Sandile—if they could ever get in contact with him. She pushed these thoughts aside to ask a final question.

"Do you know where your son's Minccino is?"

"I don't." Kim shook her head. "I'm sorry. Some people came and took him away—I don't remember who. I don't remember what they said. Just that it was a rehabilitation facility, though I assumed they would put him down. If he hasn't been... well, I have to admit, I'm not terribly interested in looking for him anyway."

Leaf frowned. There was the other unanswered question. Eighteen incidents, and not one victim or family member or friend seemed to know where the offending Pokémon had gone. Most had run off after the attack, and despite the missing reports filed, had yet to be found. Some were picked up by representatives from a rehabilitation facility, which was standard. Yet, the representatives had seemingly all failed to leave behind contact information, and the pick-up was so hasty that no one was sure who exactly had taken their Pokémon.

That _wasn't_ standard.

"I understand." Leaf paused before saying, "Well, I have nothing else to ask. Thank you for inviting me into your home and talking to me about this."

She rose to her feet, as did Kim.

"No, thank you," Kim said, politely shaking Leaf's hand. "It means a lot for the G-Men to take interest in our case."

Leaf offered her a crooked smile.

"We'll do our best to figure out what happened to your son and his Minccino," she said, stepping back. "... And I'm sorry for your loss."

_**June 23rd, 2009. Morning. Opelucid City.**_

When Paul emerged from his room that morning, he could hear the hushed voices of his guests (too kind a term) speaking in the living room, their sounds amplified by the emptiness of the hallway. Yet, it was only when he meandered down the passage that he could make sense of their words:

"Can we really leave now, though?" Barry pressed. "I mean..."

"We overstayed our welcome after two minutes," Kenny said. "This wouldn't have happened anyway if Leaf hadn't forced it on us."

"Still... I'm thinkin' 'bout what Drew and Dawn said, you know? About him maybe-"

The conversation came to an abrupt end when Paul appeared, standing in the doorway with a blank expression on his face.

"Hi—er, good morning," Barry greeted, scrambling to stand.

"Is the leak in your apartment fixed?" Paul asked flatly.

"... Yeah," Kenny drawled, now sounding a little unsure. "Our landlord called us this morning and said-"

"-Good," Paul cut him off. "Get the hell out."

He moved onto the kitchen without casting a glance at Kenny and Barry's expressions. He went straight for the cupboard, inwardly seething as he opened the door to retrieve his cereal box—only to remember it was empty, having finished it off yesterday, and he slammed the door shut again.

* * *

One of the responsibilities Burgundy had taken upon herself since beginning her tenure as Cilan's teacher assistant was recording attendance at the beginning of class. It had been more difficult at first, as she struggled to connect faces to names, even with Cilan's illustrated roster guiding her. Yet, with time came greater ease, especially since few students missed class anyway.

Yet, several minutes into lecture, Burgundy realized she couldn't find one face among the rows, leaving a blank in her sheet. She circled it with her pen.

"Karina's not here today," she informed Cilan after he paired the students up for discussion.

"Hm?" he intoned.

"Karina's absent," Burgundy repeated. "This is the first class she's missed."

"She may be running late," Cilan politely dismissed. "If not, it's no reason to worry. Students are permitted three absences before it begins taking a toll on their grade."

Burgundy frowned.

"I wonder if it's because of Purrloin," she said. "I'm not sure whether she ever found him again after he ran out of class."

"Mm," Cilan hummed, trying his best not to express distaste. It was unprofessional, he knew, to hold prejudices against particular Pokémon, and he did his part in attempting to suppress them. Yet, it was unfortunate the events of last class only served to reinforce his beliefs. "She filed a runaway Pokemon report, didn't she? I'm afraid there's not much else we can do, though it is a shame."

"It's _étrange_," Burgundy said thoughtlessly, putting little power behind her assertion. "That Purrloin had a relaxed demeanor when I first met it, but then Thursday—" She paused, shaking her head. "—Pokémon can be prideful after losses, but I don't think I've ever seen it escalate to that level."

"After losses?" Cilan inquired.

"Oh," Burgundy began with remembrance; she had not shared many of the details from her and Karina's conversation with Cilan. "When Karina and I spoke in your office, she said her Purrloin began acting strangely after she lost a battle to a Houndoom."

She noted a change in Cilan's expression: a dawning in his gaze, a wash of white in his skin, a slight parting in his lips as he inhaled a sharp breath.

"E-Excuse me?" he sputtered. "A Houndoom?"

"Ah, yes?" Burgundy was taken aback by his reaction. "Why? What's wrong with it?"

"It's-" He stopped, refusing to finish his sentence. He snapped his mouth shut and rigidly turned away. "Later."

Cilan moved forward to pick the class back up, and Burgundy watched him, feeling dread begin to grow inside her chest.

* * *

The patterned curtains in the hotel room were drawn back, and Winona stood at the windowsill, her gaze locked upon the mountains in the distance. Dark storm clouds loomed above them, a sharp contrast to the clear skies that had greeted her every other day she had spent in the Unovan city that summer.

"Today is supposed to mark the beginning of the Monsoon season here," she heard Wallace say from behind her. "There's a high chance for rain this evening and tomorrow morning."

Winona cast a cursory glance over her shoulder.

"What a send-off," she remarked.

Wallace frowned.

"Winona, I cannot leave tomorrow," he sighed.

"Oh, I know." She nodded. "You have responsibilities here, and I understand that. _I_ have responsibilities back home in Fortree, though."

"The league is presently at a standstill," Wallace reminded. "You technically should not be holding gym matches."

"I know that, too," Winona tacitly replied. "I mean, there are still Pokémon there who depend on me. I don't want to extend my absence further." She drew her arms around herself. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to keep my distance from all this. It seems, though, no matter what we do, we will always be drawn back in. Even Cynthia and Lance and Steven... they haven't escaped yet."

"I think Leaf and the others have been careful to leave them at peace," Wallace remarked. He paused before adding, "I believe the Maples also plan to depart for home tomorrow. We should arrange dinner with them, with May, before you and her family leave."

Winona smiled weakly.

"I would like that."

* * *

Iris drummed her fingers against her desk—once, twice, three times—as she silently hoped someone on the other end of the line would pick up. Yet, she was met with only a series of dull, one-note rings that finally ended with a message: "_We're sorry. The person you are trying to contact is not available now. Please check the number and try again, or leave a message after the tone._"

She let out a frustrated sigh and waited until she could speak:

"Hello, this is Iris Ajagara, looking to speak with Anwir Seachlainn. The Unova... G-Men—" She didn't know how else to word it, though it challenged her convictions. "—are looking into a string of Pokémon-on-trainer attacks, and we know that you were attacked by your Sandile last month. I'd like to talk to you, if you could just call me back at (860)-555-6792. Thank you."

Iris hung up and set the phone on her desk. They were hitting a wall. Over the past several days, they _had_ managed to corroborate several of their theories—that (a) Virus X could affect both humans and multiple species of Pokémon; (b) the pathogen strengthened and modified the behavior of Pokémon, but not of humans; and (c) its spread was connected to the transfer of saliva or other bodily fluids through open wounds.

The more information they collected, the more distressed Gary—who presently sat in the corner of the room, poring over a printed copy of his thesis—became. While much of the observations made and stories told were consistent, there were questions that still baffled him. Why were humans and Pokémon affected differently? How did Virus X get from Hoenn to Unova? If it was from Lileep, then who was behind the thievery?

The three prime suspects for telling the origins could not or would not speak for one reason or another: Adam was dead; Anwir could not be reached; and Summer was in denial. It was frustrating, and suspicious, when the fifteen other victims were much more willing to speak (Brienda had even consented to giving a sample of her blood), but there was no more groundbreaking information to be gained from them.

It was worsened by the fact there were still four days left until the thirty-day limit on Summer's ownership of Houndoom was terminated, at which time they could look more deeply into how the virus affected Pokémon. Leaf had tried to find out where the other seventeen Pokémon were, but the trainers with whom they had spoken were clueless. So, it was Houndoom, or nothing else.

Hence, the wall.

At least, there was hope in the future. Gary had spoken with Bill Blaustein, one of the researchers on his thesis committee, and his own grandfather, and they had agreed to come to Unova when the thirty-day limit had passed on Houndoom. Both he and Leaf were hesitant to invite any more researchers or professors into the matter for now, but it was a start.

Another bright side: Tomorrow, they would _finally_ announce Georgia as the newest Unova Elite Four member. Iris had sworn upon it, and she wasn't going to let Leaf delay it again. In fact, Georgia was in Iccirus City for the day, getting her affairs in order before the announcement

"If you're going to leave your number, you're going to have to remember to pick up if he ever calls back," Trip said when Iris set her phone aside.

"I know." Iris nodded. "I'll pick up."

"Will you?" he pressed.

"Yes." Iris now sounded irate. "Don't treat me like a child, Trip."

The tension dispelled when the door opened and Leaf slide inside.

"How'd it go?" Gary asked, trying to facilitate the escape from the uncomfortable situation.

"Adam's mother had nothing to say about where this virus might have come from," Leaf answered. "But, Adam definitely had it. I showed her Brienda's pictures, and she said Adam had the same kind of marks on his skin before he died."

"Did she say anything about his death?" Iris asked.

Leaf nodded and pulled out her recorder, setting it on the coffee table. It was clear she had been expecting this question, because when she hit play, the audio started exactly where Kim Than's remarks about her son's early end began:

"_His hair began thinning, and he became feverish and pale. These strange, purple spots began to appear on his skin. In the last few days of his life, the whites in his eyes began turning purple, too, and his fingers and limbs began twitching. Then, he died._"

Leaf hit pause again, and neither she nor anyone else spoke for a while as they let the words sink in.

"We need to talk to Anwir," Leaf said quietly.

"I left him a message," Iris said.

"Who's Anwir?"

Leaf breathed in sharply as she turned around to see Paul in the doorway. The others were equally surprised—and perhaps unsettled. His eyes were dark and devoid of emotion, his countenance dull and flat, and his face seemed thinner than usual. It was clear he had not been sleeping or eating much.

"Paul," Leaf evenly acknowledged. "It's... a surprise to see you here."

"Don't let it be," Paul said, moving forward. His eyes moved toward the map of Unova and bulletin board. "What's going on?"

"A lot," Leaf answered shortly, letting out a breath as she spoke, but Paul cut in before she could elaborate.

"Clearly, since the league has been put on hold in order for you to conduct some vague investigation into my Pokémon's death, which no one told me about." Paul mustered some anger in his tone

"We've tried to give you your space," Leaf defended.

"Is that so?" Paul's eyes flared, coming to life again. "Because sending Barry and Kenny to watch me seems like the opposite of giving me space. And by the way, their leak is fixed, and it would be awfully nice of you to foot the ball."

Leaf pursed her lips, as Trip, Gary, and Iris's eyes immediately went to her. Leaf had said nothing of her meddling with Barry and Kenny, though Paul's insinuations were enough to give them an idea as to what had happened—and more. Gary appeared disgruntled Leaf hadn't told him of all people, while worry began to cross Iris's expression.

"Well, we'll catch you up." Trip said, his disapproving gaze disintegrating as his eyes moved back to Paul. "But first: Have you eaten?"

"Not this morning," Paul dismissed, still looking at Leaf, unwilling to stand down.

"There's some eggs in the fridge, I think," Iris jumped in.

"What we're looking at is really dense, so it's better to have something in your system for when we explain it," Gary added. Paul didn't seem to catch on to what his friend's were doing, or if he did, he didn't care.

"Fine," he said, his gaze flicking away from Leaf, toward the others. Trip set aside his laptop and rose up, carefully ushering Paul back out the door and down the hallway. Gary followed with thesis in hand. Leaf fell back onto the sofa with a sigh, and Iris silently watched her for a moment before moving back to her desk, opening the drawer. She retrieved a short stack of paper she had laid carefully beside Diantha's still-unopen letter before shutting the drawer again.

Iris laid the stack on the table in front of Leaf, and when the Indigo Champion realized what it was—the police report filed the night Lucia Rebolledo Blair died—she looked at Iris with wide eyes.

"You don't need to explain, really," Iris began calmly, "because I already think I know what's happening. I've been meaning to give this to you for a couple days, but I guess I got so caught up in this thing with Virus X that I forgot."

"I guess I got so caught up that I forgot to ask for it," Leaf admitted, picking the stack up. She flipped through the three or so pages, scanning them.

"Do you really think this is the right way to go about it?" Iris asked, breaking the brief silence.

"I don't know." Leaf shook her head. "But I think you can agree that something has to be said."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Iris continued.

Leaf laid the papers down again.

"You can help by staying out of it."

* * *

Cilan pulled an unusual stunt that day: He let out class early. It was typical for him to use up the entire hour and a half allocated to classtime, engaging students in discussion and other collaborative activities; yet, after Burgundy's remarks about Houndoom, he skimmed through his plans and released his students a full twenty minutes before the set end time.

Burgundy realized this was only another cause for alarm as she stayed on Cilan's heels while he hurried back to his office. She had asked several times what was wrong, but her pleas went ignored up until he reached the door. He fumbled with his keys before successfully letting himself and Burgundy inside, and he immediately went to his desk, pulling open drawers and searching through them with little regard for organization, all while unintelligibly muttering under his breath. Burgundy watched, wholly unsure of what she should do.

Cilan finally found what he was looking for—the folder containing his students' records. He sat down and, dampening his index and pointer fingers with his tongue, quickly flicked through the pages until he reached V, Valdis. A quick scan of the page snapped his focus and left him dejected as he sunk into his chair, uttering a word Burgundy thought she would never hear an S-Class, let alone Cilan, say.

"Cilan, what's wrong?" Burgundy asked for the umpteenth time.

He breathed in sharply and looked at her as though he had only just remembered she were there.

"Burgundy..." He stood and closed the door. "You're sure it was a Houndoom?"

"Yes, why?" Burgundy was growing more frustrated. "Why does it matter?"

Cilan paused, pressing his fingers to his temple as he considered how he should respond.

"Did you hear what happened Thursday night at the CIU's event in the Opelucid battle club? To Paul Rebolledo's Torterra?" he asked.

"I... I heard it died," Burgundy replied, unnerved by the topic.

"Did you read Coordinators Weekly's article about it then?"

"I don't follow the contest circuit, so no," she answered. Cilan promptly turned to his laptop and, after waking it up and pulling up a search engine, typed in "coordinators weekly cover." The first hit was a page titled "Coordinators Weekly: This Week's Cover." He clicked on it, and when the image loaded, Burgundy felt her breath catch.

"This Houndoom," Cilan began, pointing to the poor creature on the screen, "it's at the Opelucid Pokémon Center, and it tested..." He trailed off, suddenly looking unsure.

"It tested what?" Burgundy pressed.

"Burgundy," he said seriously, firmly, "understand that this information does not leave this office." When she nodded, he continued, "It tested positive for a potentially deadly virus that can affect both humans and Pokémon. It causes infected Pokémon to grow stronger and more aggressive, often leading them to attack their own trainers. My wife and Leaf and several others have been looking into it for several days now, and there's been eighteen attacks possibly associated with it. Georgia told you nothing of this?"

"N-No, I didn't see Georgia at all this weekend," Burgundy answered.

"That's because she's been with us, working on it." Cilan paused again, pressing a hand to his face. "... I had hoped my record for Karina would include some personal information—a phone number, an address—but there's nothing."

"Can't we get it somewhere else?" Burgundy asked.

"I..." Cilan dropped his hand, revealing some clarity in his eyes. "You'll have to excuse me." He stood up and haphazardly gathered his things together. "I-I'm sorry for worrying you with all of this. I have to get home immediately."

* * *

"_It's been three days since the G-Men announced a temporary stop on all league activities in order to investigate the death of Paul Rebolledo's Torterra, and still little information has been released about the nature of the investigation and why it's being conducted,_" the PNN anchor began, smoothly transitioning into the new segment. "_None of the of offices of the Champion have returned our calls, and the CIU has declined to comment, saying the G-Men is leading the investigation..._"

Drew had a hand pressed to his temple as he watched the report. Zoey stood behind him, also keeping an eye on the screen.

"... You know, I've always respected Brian Shriver as a broadcast journalist," she remarked after a moment. "He cuts through a lot of the BS you see in politics and things—tries to hold people accountable. That's not an easy thing to do today, and it doesn't make him many friends."

May soon came up from behind the duo, phone in hand. Realizing they were in the middle of conversation, she waited.

"Mhm," Drew agreed. "It's not journalism unless someone doesn't want it on the air or in the headlines."

"I'm sorry," Zoey apologized.

Drew shrugged.

"It's more of a bad reflection on the G-Men than it is us," he said. "The G-Men needs something hanging on its tail, though—obviously. Even with their attempts to self-regulate, they still end up being exclusionary and secretive, not something you want out of what's supposed to be _your government_. ... May, did you need something?"

May perked up at the mention of her name.

"Ah, yes!" she answered. "I have something that might make you happy and help our situation. My mom called me and said she wants to go to dinner with us tonight before they leave tomorrow."

"May, as much as I love your family and as much as I would be willing to go out to dinner with them, I don't think that's going to solve our problems," Drew replied dryly.

"No, but see," May persisted, "_Wallace_ was the one who suggested it. Winona's leaving tomorrow, too. This is a chance to talk to a Champion. It might not be polite dinner conversation, but we can at least try to get a sense of what's going on."

Zoey and Drew exchanged quick glances. Then, he smirked.

"May, you're a lot smarter than they say you are," he said.

* * *

Burgundy's head was spinning by the time she returned to her apartment.

Cilan had left too quickly, leaving her unable to plead that he tell her more about this virus, or ask where he was going to get Karina's information and what he intended to do with it. So, she had gone home—but she couldn't sit still, nor could she simply "not worry" like Cilan had instructed. Burgundy pulled off her heels, considering what she should do; and she decided that if she wanted answers, the best place for her to start was the Internet.

She headed back into her bedroom, finding the laptop that occupied the empty half of her bed. After booting it up, she searched for the Coordinators Weekly cover again... and after the image loaded, she decided she couldn't stomach looking at it much longer. Burgundy opened up a new tab, typing "Karina Valdis" into the search bar. The first hit linked to a blog titled "Karina's World."

"Karina Valdis. 13. Lacunosa Town. Aspiring S-Class Connoisseuse. These are just some of my thoughts about my daily life."

Burgundy pressed a hand to her mouth. This was definitely her. She scrolled down to look at the entries and was disappointed (and scared) to find she hadn't updated in a while. She scrolled through several June entries, then through May, stopping to read only one:

_I'm sososo excited, because tonight, one of my professors posted the syllabus to the class I've really been wanting to take! I printed it out and highlighted some stuff. I already have Mr. Poltiere's book, but I still need to get Professor Oak's "The Symbiosis of Humans and Pokémon."_

_I've always thought Pokémon Natures were super interesting, and I think it's going to be so cool how to tell which Nature a Pokémon has. Also, my friend Phillip, who's also in the class with me, said that this professor is supposed to be really good, even though he's new. We also have a TA, and she's actually a girl, which is pretty cool!_

_I can hardly wait for the summer semester to start. It's only nine days away! My dad's going to drive me to Opelucid City next Sunday before classes start that Tuesday. I want to go sooner, but my mom told me I have to go see my doctor Friday for a check-up and to get my prescription renewed before I leave again._

_B-Class rank, here I come!_

_-Karina Valdis, 05/10/09_

Burgundy let out a shaky breath. She moved back up to the top of the page to read the blog description again.

Lacunosa Town.

* * *

"You're sure she said it was a Houndoom?" Leaf pressed, her eyes burning into Cilan. Their group—which now included Wallace—sat together in Iris's office once again, listening to Cilan deliver his news. Paul was also there, watching Cilan, but it was unclear from the cloudy film in his eyes whether he was entirely present.

"Burgundy wouldn't lie," Cilan insisted.

"This is the same girl who impersonated S-Class Connoisseurs when we were kids and is now facing getting kicked out of the PCA because of it," Trip pointed out. "So yes, I think she would."

"Not on this." Cilan shook his head. "What reason would she have to?"

"How come you didn't say anything earlier after Karina was first attacked by her Pokémon in class?" Gary questioned. "Trip came in with his bulletin board and articles that day, and Torterra died only hours later. You didn't suspect anything?"

Cilan ducked his head as the shame began to creep up his shoulders.

"I... it was a Purrloin," he said.

"So?" Leaf challenged.

"So Cilan is terrified of Purrloin and thinks they're just about the worst Pokémon in the world," Iris answered. "So what happened was probably nothing out of the ordinary in his mind."

Cilan just short of glared at her for speaking for him, but he didn't have much room to retort, knowing she was right. He could have pointed out she had her own seemingly silly fears—the likes of which would induce stares or even chuckles if they story behind them wasn't known—but he held his tongue.

"Yes, that," he said.

"Well," Wallace began with a sigh, "it is what it is. Ms. Valdis has not yet located her Purrloin, has she?"

"I'm not sure," Cilan admitted. "Burgundy said they had filed a runaway Pokémon report."

"If that Purrloin's still out there, then there might be more cases of attacks," Leaf said. "Trip, can you look into that?"

"Yeah..." Trip mumbled, nodding.

"And," Leaf continued, reaching for her laptop, "we need to find Karina. We need to talk to her. Cilan, you and I can go together."

"I don't-" Cilan paused, hesitating. "I don't know. It's unprofessional for professors to visit students personally in their homes, if not a violation of the PCA Faculty Code of Conduct."

"Then Paul and I will go."

"Mm?" Paul lifted his eyes and stared at her vacantly.

"Then just I'll go," Leaf amended.

A knock at Iris's office door was soon followed by Agent Murray peering inside.

"Pardon the interruption," he said. "A young woman named Burgundy Myers wishes to speak with Mr. Griffith."

Surprise patterned across Cilan's face while Leaf pursed her lips.

"Okay. Bring her in," she said.

Minutes later, Agent Murray escorted Burgundy into the room. She appeared a little nervous, a little unsure.

"Burgundy," Cilan politely acknowledged. "What brings you here?"

"Ah, well..." Burgundy folded her hands nervously. "Sorry to burst in like this, but I found Karina's blog, and it said she's from Lacunosa Town. I thought, well, if she has this virus, then maybe she returned home to her pare-"

"-Hold up," Leaf cut her off, turning to face Cilan. "You told Burgundy about the virus?"

Cilan flinched, as did Burgundy, realizing her misstep.

"I assure you, Burgundy will not violate the confidentiality of the matter," he said.

"Right," Burgundy quickly added, now launching into damage control. The last thing she wanted to do was land Cilan in hot water, lest she get burned. "I won't say anything about it. I didn't say anything about the car crash."

"What good does knowing her city alone do anyway?" Paul mumbled, speaking for the first time in a while. "Were you planning on going and scouring all of Lacunosa for one person?"

"Well... yes?" Burgundy answered tepidly, feeling silly now, but being unsure of what else to say. Her response seemed to catch Cilan off guard, and he stared at her in surprise for a moment.

"That's not necessary anyway," Leaf dismissed, her tone still carrying a touch of ire. She readjusted her laptop so it was facing the others. "I have Karina Valdis right here. She lives on 627 Sunset Blvd. in Lacunosa."

"How did you get that?" Burgundy asked.

"She's in our database of registered trainers," Leaf answered shortly.

"A database of—wait, all trainers?" Burgundy's eyes widened. "The G-Men have that? Am I in there?"

"You know—" Leaf snapped her laptop shut. "—this really isn't any of your business. Your concern is, I guess, admirable, but we don't need your help."

Burgundy drew back with a quite though sharp breath, feeling her self-doubt grow. It was becoming more obvious to her that going to the gym was a mistake. Cilan remained silent, though sympathetic, as he watched her, and Iris cast him a disbelieving look.

"I understand," Burgundy tacitly replied. "I should just... go. Sorry."

She turned and quickly headed out the door, and her absence was followed with further silence. Cilan soon began to feel Iris's disapproving gaze burrowing into him, and he turned so their eyes connected. She still said nothing, but he could see the disappointment emanating from her countenance, and when she flicked her head toward the door, he realized the reason why.

"It will not necessary for you to go to Lacunosa to speak with Karina, Leaf," Cilan said suddenly, rising to his feet. "I will attend to it myself."

He hurried out the door and down the hallway, where he could see Burgundy further ahead of him.

"Burgundy, wait," he called out to her. She stopped and turned to face him.

"I'm sorry," she repeated plainly, but Cilan shook his head.

"No, please, it is me who should apologize," he said. "Don't leave yet."

Burgundy inclined her head, looking at him warily.

Would you..." Cilan continued carefully, "... be interested in making a day trip?"

* * *

May didn't wear lipstick terribly often. She had an unfortunate tendency to get it on her teeth or run outside the sketch of her lips, hence why she, _of course_, reserved it solely for special occasions—for weddings, for nice parties, and for impressive company.

The moment Drew drove into the empty parking space and switched off his engine, May pulled down the overhead mirror and dug through her purse, locating her tube of bright red lipstick. She furrowed her brow in deep concentration as she, as carefully as she could, applied the new color and smacked her lips.

"Look okay?" May asked cheerfully, casting a sideways glance at her boyfriend.

"I'm going to laugh when you leave a red rim on your wineglass." Drew smirked.

"Ugh." May scowled as she lightly shoved his shoulder and folded her arms with a huff. "You're such a jerk."

Drew laughed, but decided to amuse her, saying, "You look great."

It took May a moment to relent—but when she did, a smile bloomed within her again-cheerful disposition.

"Thanks," she said, leaning over to kiss him. Both immediately realized their error, and May giggled after she pulled away and gave Drew a once-over. Drew blinked and, disgruntled, swiped a finger against his bottom lip. Sure enough, the red, sticky remnants of her cosmetics colored his prints.

"Do you have any napkins in there?" he asked, referring to her purse.

"Yeah, yeah..." May handed him a tissue, and Drew mumbled a "thanks" before wiping his mouth.

The restaurant at which they agreed to meet May's family and the Reyes was a little higher-end than what was typical for a weekday date; not black tie by any means, but nice enough to warrant a little extra effort in their appearance, especially considering their company included the now well-respected Hoenn Champion and his wife.

"Good evening," the hostess greeted. "Welcome to The Qualot Garden. Table for two?"

"We're actually meeting some people here," Drew clarified.

"Under what name?"

"Um..." May scrunched her face, thinking. "Under either Norman Maple or Wallace Reyes, I think."

"Oh yes, Norman Maple." The hostess smiled as she picked up two extra menus. "Please follow me."

The hostess led them back to a nice, decently-sized table near a long window that stretched up the wall. May's parents, Max, and Winona had already been seated and were waiting.

"We're sorry we're late," May apologized as Drew pulled out a chair for her and sat down, before he occupied the seat beside her.

"No need to apologize," Winona said amicably. "You're right on time. It's my husband who's running late."

"Wallace?" May inquired.

"Mhm," Winona hummed, nodding. "He's been caught up in some business with the G-Men. He'll be here soon."

May and Drew exchanged furtive glances.

"Really?" Drew expertly feigned a pleasant though surprised tone when he looked back at Winona. "What kind of business?"

"Oh, I don't know much myself," Winona answered with a wave of her hand. "I try very hard to stay out of politics. Wallace will be staying in Unova longer than I to continue helping Leaf and the others. I'm returning home tomorrow."

"Ah, so are we!" Caroline smiled.

"Right," Norman added. "Our gym assistant, Ken, was nice enough to care for the Pokémon at the gym while we were away, and though Max can't hold gym matches with the moratorium on league activity, it will be good to alleviate Ken of the responsibilities of a two-person job."

"Yeah, I'm kinda bummed about the standstill," Max mumbled. "They're pretty serious, though, aren't they? The last one was when... anyway, I hope it ends soon."

"I do as well." The group perked up in surprise when Wallace suddenly joined them, smoothly brushing his hair out of his eyes. "It's unfortunate I've had to see two in my tenure. Seven years ago, it was unthinkable, and yet here we are again."

"Wallace! We're so glad you could join us," Norman greeted.

"Apologies for my lateness," Wallace said. "I've been wanting to make said standstill as short as possible. Yet, I wanted to see your family—and Drew—before some of you returned to Hoenn."

"Oh, Drew is a part of the family!" Caroline cheerfully corrected. "Although, I think some of us are hoping it becomes more official soon."

May turned bright red and hissed an embarrassed, "Mom!" Drew let out an uncomfortable though knowing chuckle.

Wallace chuckled too and said, "Of course."

Sensing his opportunity to glean information could soon slip away, Drew clear his throat and asked, "So what's the progress with your investigation?"

"The investigation?—Oh yes." Wallace seemed bemused the topic had been brought up again. "Leaf hasn't told you much about that, has she?"

"No," Drew answered bluntly, though he managed to maintain a neutral tone.

"Don't take it personally," Wallace assured him. "We're simply looking more into the health of the Houndoom, and Leaf wants to prevent the spread of misinformation."

"Does it have anything to do with those articles posted on that bulletin board in Iris's office?" Drew pressed. Caroline and Norman both appeared surprised and confused, unsure of what he meant; Winona and Max looked more wary. May retained her poise, keeping a careful pulse on the situation, ready to step in if she felt Drew was pushing Wallace too much.

"You saw those? Ah, well-" Wallace paused, thinking. "Yes. I wouldn't worry too much about it, Drew. I understand your concern, seeing as you're planning for that special contest in July—and it's for that reason the G-Men would hate to drag the CIU into this business. We don't want to hinder your mission."

Drew knew these words were a subtle nudge to end the conversation, and so he did. He wasn't wholly satisfied—he had more questions than answers—but at least it was something.

"Anyway, enough of me and the G-Men," Wallace said, moving along, "I'd like to hear more about the CIU and how you're all doing. We weren't able to talk much about it when I visited several days ago."

"Oh, it's going really well!" May said. "I think aside from the... um... bad press on Thursday, the Q&amp;A on Thursday was a success, and it drew in more profit than we expected."

"That's wonderful news." Winona smiled. "I'm curious, though: What are you planning on doing when your work with the CIU finishes?"

"Me?" May blinked. "Well, the new semester for DIL starts in the fall. It'll be my last year."

"What are you studying?" Winona asked.

"Education," May replied. "I kind of want to teach inside the APC after I graduate, and I'm hoping the CIU on my résumé will help me."

"Really? Teaching?" Winona craned an eyebrow. "I would think you were destined for a higher position of leadership—I heard you successfully took hold of the reins for the CIU movement for a while."

Drew paused, raising his eyes toward Winona.

"That was just temporary." May hastily wrote it off. "Drew's much more interested in administrative things than I am."

"So I've guessed." Wallace stepped into the conversation again, looking toward Drew. "You recently graduated, correct? Political science? Are you interested in public office?"

"Ah... no," Drew answered, now more wary. "I don't have as much of an interest in politics as my degree might suggest. I also want to stick with working for the APC."

"I see." There was a barely noticeable twinge of disappointment in Wallace's voice and expression, but it vanished as he, too, directed his attention toward May. "Are you also committed to staying with the APC, then?"

"Well, I'm always open to other possibilities!" May clarified. "I've been coordinating for years, so it seems like a natural transition, but I'm happy to see what other opportunities come my way."

"Good to hear. It's good to be willing to step outside your comfort zone." Winona looked strangely relieved. Drew frowned, beginning to look more and more suspicious—and perhaps surprisingly, so did Max. Winona continued, "You never thought about the league and winning the Champion title, being the daughter of a gym leader?"

Drew let out a silent though disbelieving breath. He reached for his glass of water and took a drink; his eyes locked onto the couple sitting across from him.

"Well-" The question seemed to catch May off guard. "-no, not really. To tell the truth, I didn't like Pokémon much at first, but as I got into contests, I really learned to love them, and to love battling. Competitive training was always Max's thing."

"That's right!" Norman smiled. "And I'm proud to say Max is now the gym leader in Petalburg."

"Uh... yeah!" Max tore his eyes away from Winona, shaking his head.

"Norman and I thought for a while he might be too young to take the gym, still," Caroline added, "and we questioned whether he would want to compete for several more years, but... Max was adament! And he's been phenomenal so far."

Max appeared a little embarrassed by the attention, but said, "I just figured, with Iris and Paul and stuff, competing had become... well, and I wanted to go to school."

"Are you starting college, Max?" Wallace asked politely.

"Yup. Haven't decided what I want to study yet, but I don't have to; the first semester is all general ed. classes anyway," Max replied.

Drew was glad the tide of the conversation had changed, but he pressed a hand to his mouth and cast a quick glance at May. She was listening to the others with a placid smile, but when she noticed his gaze, she smiled brightly at him.

"Good evening." A waiter stopped by the table, temporarily halting the conversation. "Have you made your selections from the menu?"

Drew unfurled his fingers and glanced down at the menu before him. He had become so caught up in the topics at hand that he had failed to even steal a glance at his options.

"No, sorry," Drew said stiffly, picking up his menu. "We're going to need a few more minutes."

_**June 23rd, 2009. Early Evening. Lacunosa Town.**_

"This is it," Cilan decided, slowing to a complete stop in front of a small though nice white-brick home in the middle of a neighborhood that shared the same description. Lively bright green vines climbed up the walls, curling around the lit windows—meaning someone was certainly home.

"Are you sure?" Burgundy asked, and Cilan nodded.

"627 Sunset Blvd.," he repeated the location aloud as he unbuckled his seatbelt. "Unless she's changed addresses, this should be it."

He stepped outside the vehicle and made his way up the cobblestone path that led to the front door. Burgundy followed suit.

"What are we going to say?" she asked when they reached the straw doormat with the word "Welcome!" popping out at them in dark blue.

"I'm not sure yet." Cilan offered her a weak smile. "I'm hoping the words come to me."

Burgundy blinked; she couldn't explain quite why, but this response surprised her. She faced forward again when he knocked, and they waited, listening for the sound of shuffling feet.

It wasn't long before the door cracked open, and a dark-haired, dark-eyed woman peered outside.

"Hello?" she inquired warily.

"Good evening," Cilan greeted politely. "We're sorry to come unannounced. Does Karina Valdis live here?"

"Yes." The woman remained cautious. "I'm Marion Valdis, Karina's mother. Who might you be?"

"My name is Cilan Griffith; I'm an S-Class Connoisseur and Karina's professor for one of her classes at the PCA." Cilan extended a hand toward Burgundy, who straightened up. "This is Burgundy Myers, my TA."

"Oh!" Marion suddenly appeared troubled. "Is Karina in trouble?"

"Not at all," Cilan quickly assured her. "She's an excellent student. Ms. Myers and I were merely concerned because Karina wasn't in class today, and we received no notice of her absence."

Marion's lips curved into a smile upon hearing her daughter was a good student, and it put her more at ease.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "Karina's come down with something. She's been bedridden for several days now. She wanted to go to class today, but her father and I wouldn't let her."

Burgundy felt her breath hitch; Cilan maintained an even expression, but cast her a quick, concerned expression before looking back at Marion.

"I see," he said. "Would you be willing to let us see her?"

"I'd hate for you to catch her sickness."

"I think we're willing to stake our chances," Cilan persisted.

Marion hesitated.

"Well... okay," she gave in, opening the door further. "Come inside."

Cilan turned his head toward Burgundy and nodded for her to go first. Once both were inside, Marion shut the door and led them into the joint living and dining room, where they found a bleary-eyed man sitting at the table with a half-empty cup of coffee.

"Joseph, we have guests," Marion said. "This is Professor Griffith and Ms. Myers, Karina's teachers at the PCA."

"Karina's teachers?" Joseph looked up. "For what?"

"We just wanted to check up on her," Burgundy said quickly.

"Hm... It's awfully nice of you to come all this way," Joseph said. "Karina has raved about her classes whenever she's come home this summer. She loves being a Pokémon Connoisseur, and she's determined to climb the ranks."

"I-I'm sure she will." Cilan clasped his hands behind him. "Where is she?"

"In her bedroom," Marion answered. "Follow me."

She took them down the hallway to a closed wooden door that had "Karina" plastered in black vinyl letters on the front. Marion knocked and said, "Karina? You have some visitors. May we come in?"

"Visitors?" Karina's voice emerged from the other side. "Um, sure!"

Marion opened the door, and there lied Karina tangled up beneath her red and white sheets, her dark hair sprawled across her similarly colored polka-dot pillow. In her hands was a slightly worn paperback novel, the cover of which depicted two children standing in front of an old, twisted tree that towered above them. Yet, Karina's eyes widened when she saw her professors standing before her. She hastily set her book aside and tried to sit up, but she let out a pained breath as she did.

"I-I'm sorry. I look like such a mess right now, not at all what a connoisseuse should look like," she panted, trying to brush away the messiness of her hair with her fingers.

"Don't worry about it Karina," Cilan assured her with a chuckle as he approached. "You're sick; I don't look well when I'm ill, and I'm sure Ms. Myers doesn't either."

Karina lowered her hand and smiled crookedly, though she still appeared nervous. Burgundy noticed her other hand, which laid on her lap, was bandaged with splashes of bright purple peeking from beneath the gauze.

"I don't mean to sound rude at all, but what are you doing here?" Karina asked. "Did something happen? Did you find Purrloin?"

Cilan frowned.

"No, I'm afraid not," he said. "We came because we were concerned with your absence, considering what happened last week."

Karina's face fell, disappointment evident in her expression.

"Oh..." She trailed off.

Burgundy's eyes were still on Karina's bandaged hand, and she cleared her throat before asking, "Karina, how's your hand?"

"Mm?" Karina blinked and lifted it toward herself. "It okay, I guess. It's been bruising pretty badly. You can't see it much with the gauze and stuff, but practically my whole hand is purple." Her head snapped up. "Oh, that's not your fault, though! I guess I'm just sensitive to these things."

Cilan appeared disturbed, and Burgundy felt a lump beginning to form in her throat. She wanted to ask him if this was supposed to be a symptom of the virus about which he spoke, but she couldn't in front of Karina.

"What else ails you?" he asked.

"Um..." It was clear from Karina's expression that she was beginning to find these questions, if not the whole situation, strange. "It's just a bunch of flu-like symptoms, I guess. I've been sore and feverish, and it can get hard to move around. Really, don't worry about me, though; I'm used to this type of thing. I want to get better before class on Thursday. Dad said if I haven't started to improve by then, he'll take me to a doctor."

Cilan looked even more distressed than before, and he stood up.

"Ms. Myers, why don't you stay with Karina for now?" he suggested, forcing a pleasant smile. "I'd like to speak with Mr. and Mrs. Valdis for a few minutes."

Burgundy nodded, and Karina drew her arms around herself; both confusion and fear were present in their eyes. When he left, closing the door behind him, silence hung between the two connoisseuses for a while. Burgundy turned herself, her eyes dating nervously around—until the landed on the paperback Karina had been reading.

"I love this book," Burgundy remarked, gently touching the edge of the worn cover.

Karina perked up.

"You do?"

"It's one of my favorites," Burgundy went on. "I always cry at the end, though."

Karina smiled.

"Me too," she admitted. "Jesse reminds me of a friend." She paused for a long moment before asking, "Ms. Myers, could you please be honest with me? I know it's not usual for PCA professors to pay house visits. In fact, I'm pretty sure it's something that doesn't happen, ever. Can you tell me what's happening?"

Burgundy stared at the younger girl wordlessly. Then, she sighed.

"I wish I knew myself."

* * *

"Is something wrong, Mr. Griffith?" Marion inquired when Cilan stepped outside Karina's room and leaned against the door, his shoulders sagging, his breath a second shorter.

"I..." Cilan briefly brought his hand to his face to rub his temple, but he just as quickly dropped it. "Ms. Valdis, I hope you take no offense to this question: Why haven't you taken Karina to see a doctor?"

"It's quite all right," Marion assured him. "My husband and I receive this question often when Karina falls ill. You see, Karina was born with a minor immunodeficiency disease, and so she gets sick more easily—and when she does, her sickness impacts her more heavily than it would a person of normal health. This is why my husband and I didn't let her leave on her journey when she turned 10, because it posed too many risks to her health. The PCA provided a perfect environment for her, though."

"I'm afraid I don't understand..." Cilan said warily. "If she's immunodeficient, wouldn't that mean you would want to take her to see health care professionals more?"

"When Karina was younger, we took her to the hospital all the time—a typical winter cold seemed more serious—and it was not just a financial burden on us, but a mental burden on her. It exhausted her," Joseph interjected, walking down the hallway to meet his wife and Cilan. "We eventually learned it was a balancing act, knowing when we could and should care for her ourselves, and when she needed a doctor. I assure you though, Mr. Griffith, that Karina is fine, and she does lead a mostly normal life, largely in thanks to the PCA. Of course we take precautions, and she has a prescription from her doctor, but we try to keep the restrictions on her loose."

"Mm, I see..." Cilan hummed, but he folded his arms, considering how he should word this next statement. "I'm afraid I don't this is a normal cold she can recover from under your care, though."

"What do you mean?" Marion asked.

"There's been a recent outbreak of a virus that, we think, is transmittable between humans and Pokémon," Cilan explained as calmly as he could. "Your daughter's hand... I think she might be showing early symptoms. I think she might have gotten it from her Purrloin."

"_What_? What kind of virus is this?" Joseph asked in alarm.

"And how come you know about it? I haven't seen anything for a virus outbreak on the news," Marion added.

"I'm married to Iris Ajagara, the Champion of Unova," Cilan said. "The G-Men have been looking into this for several days now, and they've been trying to identify and reach out to victims. The symptoms often start after a trainer is bitten by an infected Pokémon, and some of things Ms. Myers told me led me to worry about Karina, hence why we came here."

"How serious is it?" Marion pressed.

"Well..." Cilan hesitated. "The G-Men have identified eighteen possible cases, not including Karina. Of those those eighteen, only one person has died, but his injuries were far more serious than bite wounds to a hand." Cilan paused before adding, "Still... I would... highly recommend taking her to a hospital or other care center."

Horror fell upon both Marion and Joseph's expression—and it was a look Cilan didn't think he would forget for a while.

"What do you expect us to tell her?" Marion breathed.

Cilan opened his mouth to reply, but he snapped it shut again, struggling to find what to say—what he should say.

"Tell her... the G-Men are assembling a team of researchers that will find a cure," he finally answered. "Tell her she's going to be fine."

_**June 23rd, 2009. Evening. Opelucid City.**_

No matter how many times Paul looked over the images of the deep purple pools of color against Brienda's peachy skin, they would make no more sense to him. He thought he had taken the explanations of Virus X, of Houndoom, of what happened to his Torterra in stride, but he supposed he could only digest so much information in one day. Besides, it seemed his mind was stuck on one thought:

Even if Dr. Abby and Nurse Joy had managed to save Torterra, he would be suffering the same illness that ailed seventeen children and had killed another—and perhaps just as bad, his personality would potentially be altered to something so vile that even his own trainer would reject him as his.

Was it better that he was dead then?

"... I'm going home." Paul slid the pictures away from him and stood up. The only person present to hear his announcement was Gary, who sat near him at the dinner table scribbling out some notes on lined paper. Two plates of food were laid out before them, yet one was empty, while the other had barely been touched.

Gary dropped his pen and looked up at the Sinnoh Champion.

"You want to take that with you?" he asked, pointing toward the now-cold food. Paul shook his head, and Gary sighed. "All right. Well, take care of yourself."

"Mhm," Paul grunted in response as he left the room. Yet, when he reached the elevator, the doors opened before he could press the button to head down.

"Drew?" Paul turned his head warily.

"Paul!" Drew's eyes widened. "I didn't know you had... Arceus, how are you doing?"

"What are you doing here?" Paul asked bluntly, ignoring his question. "And why do you have a DVD for a Disney movie in your hand?"

Drew readjusted his attitude, realizing Paul wasn't going to tolerate any tenderness—which perhaps he should have expected.

"I'm here to see Leaf," he said. "And I have the Disney movie because I told May I was going out to rent one; she doesn't know I'm here, and at this point, I don't want her to."

"Lying and sneaking around—that's worse than not paying enough attention' your girlfriend, don't you think?" Paul said, a little sharply. Drew winced.

"Look, I just need to talk to Leaf," he said.

"She's not going to tell you anything about the virus."

"The virus?" Drew's eyebrows shot up. "What virus?"

"Never mind." Paul shook his head and sighed.

Drew appeared irritated, but said, "Surprisingly, that's not actually why I'm here. I had dinner with May's family and Wallace tonight."

"Is that where he went?" Paul mumbled.

""Do you know if Wallace is planning on retiring anytime soon?" Drew pressed on.

"No."

"I think he is," Drew persisted. "And I think I know who he wants as his replacement."

* * *

"This is all I could find," Trip said, laying out some printed copies of online articles on the coffee table in front of Leaf and Iris. "Two police beats, both since Thursday, and they involve a Pokémon attacking a human in Opelucid."

"It didn't say what Pokémon?" Iris asked, picking up one of the copies and scanning the page.

"No." Trip shook his head.

"What about the trainer names?" Leaf asked.

"That's the thing about police beats—they're written based on police reports, which reporters can request, but it's standard to leave out the names for publication," Trip explained.

"So we're going to have to get ahold of those reports ourselves." Leaf pressed a hand to her face, weary. Suddenly, the door to Iris's office flung open, and Paul stalked inside. His eyes, burning with more emotion than he had shown all day combined, immediately latched onto Leaf, and she knew she was in for a fight, even if she wasn't sure what for yet.

"Evening, Paul," she said, almost wryly.

"I need to talk to you, privately," he growled.

"What a coincidence," Leaf began, standing up so he no longer towered over her, "so do I."

Trip and Iris both appeared surprised, and they exchanged quick glances.

"We'll... just... leave then," Trip said, rising and heading for the door. Iris was about to follow suit, but she paused long enough to snatch her phone off the table. Leaf watched them up until the door closed, and then her eyes flicked back toward Paul.

"What's this about?" she asked, folding her arms.

"Why is Wallace courting May as a candidate for the Hoenn Championship seat?" Paul demanded, getting straight to the point.

Leaf's breath caught, and she stared at him silently for a long moment, her eyes wide. Then, she shook her head and laughed.

"I thought that sentence was going to end a lot differently, and let me tell you, boy am I glad it didn't," she said. "Affairs are terrible."

"This isn't funny, Leaf."

"Why are you coming to me about this?" Leaf decided to sit back down again, crossing one leg over the other. "Isn't this something you should bring up with, I don't know, _Wallace_?"

"Because this has your scent all over it," he spat.

"My _scent_?" Leaf repeated in disbelief, finding his word choice ludicrous.

"I saw how you were acting around Wallace when he came to the CIU event," Paul went on. "I knew there was something going on between you, and I wasn't sure what it was, but now I am. You knew Wallace was leaving, and you knew he was going to go after May."

"Yes," Leaf admitted suddenly, sharply, "I knew Wallace was leaving. He told me he and Winona are wanting to start a family, but they're waiting until he's out of politics. My question is, how did you find out?"

"Drew was here," Paul said shortly. "He figured it out, and he came here to talk to you, but he ran into me first."

"Fair enough," Leaf conceded. "Why do you think this anything to do with me?"

"You knowing about it but Iris and I being left in the dark speaks volumes."

"I don't control Wallace's decisions, Paul," Leaf said wearily.

"Don't deny you don't have sway," Paul hissed. "Wallace might be your senior, but you're the Indigo Champion. You oversee two regions; you're the ringleader."

"Yes, fine, I have a heavier club than any of you," Leaf huffed. "Believe it or not, though, when Wallace first approached me on this, he wanted Drew. I told him there was no way he would do it."

"What did you say about May?"

Leaf hesitated.

"I said... maybe," she admitted. Paul narrowed his gaze, and Leaf grumbled, "Why are you so opposed to it anyway? May has the makings of a great leader in her."

Paul looked at her with incredulity. Then, he turned away, angrily breathing, "I can't believe this."

"That's not an answer."

"It's because a year is long enough to see what this title does to people; it breeds lying and distrust and secrets," Paul finally responded to her question. "May is one of the few good things left in this world, and I won't let you make her another of your pawns."

"Again, Paul, this wasn't my call," Leaf reminded him. "It's true Wallace consulted me, but truth be told, I don't know how I feel about May becoming Champion. Could she? _I_ think so. Should she? I'm not so sure."

"I don't believe you." Paul shook his head. "Not for a minute."

"Then what do you believe?" Leaf asked, exasperated.

Paul paused for a long moment, considering what to say.

"I believe..." he began slowly, "that you're giving up on Iris."

"_What?_" Leaf's voice pitched a note higher, and she looked offended.

"You and I both know Alder didn't want Iris to be Champion; he wanted to hand the title over to Grimsley," Paul continued. "He retired when he did to lock out Iris and dissuade her from accepting the position—but you convinced her otherwise, and now, with everything that's happened since her inauguration, you think it was a mistake. You're expecting Iris to resign, but you're okay with that, because then you can start over with May."

"Arceus, that's..." Leaf buried her face in her hands. "Paul, if I was seriously expecting anyone to resign, it would not be Iris. In fact, I'd peg you as first to go."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Paul looked annoyed and suspicious.

Leaf remained quiet for a while, averting her gaze. Now that the conversation she'd been needing to have was upon her, she didn't know what to say. Finally, she reached into her pocket and pulled out several folded sheets of paper.

"Pewter City. March 9th, 1993," she read aloud when she unfurled the stack, and Paul tensed up. "Lucia Rebolledo Blair's body was recovered off the shore of a creek that had flooded due to heavy rains. Her 15-year-old son, Reggie Blair, reported that Lucia suffered from schizophrenia and had left their home in the middle of an episode. Her death was ruled a suicide."

"_How dare you?_" Paul cut in with a low, dangerous voice. "How dare you pry into my personal life?"

"People are worried about you," Leaf said calmly. "I'm worried about you."

"What does that have to do with anything? What does my mother have to do with it?"

"You're not taking care of yourself, and I'm not the only one to notice," Leaf continued.

"Leaf-"

"-Schizophrenia manifests itself in men in their early 20s," she cut him off, "and I think you're starting to get scared."

A thick, tension-filled silence fell. Paul stared at her for a long time, holding her gaze.

"You think I'm schizophrenic?" he finally asked.

"No, actually," Leaf amended. "I'm not a psychiatrist; it's dishonest to even insinuate you have schizophrenia, because I'm nowhere near qualified to make that call. But, I think you recognize that you haven't been wholly yourself for a while now, and it's been worse with what happened to Torterra, and now it's in the back of your mind—and in the minds of others—but you don't want to acknowledge you might need help. Is that why you broke up with Dawn? Because she was trying to get you to see what you wanted to pretend didn't exist?"

"Don't think for me."

"I'm not wrong though, am I?" Leaf challenged. "At least, I'm not too far off base."

Paul said nothing for a while. Then:

"We're not talking about me right now. We're talking about May," he murmured.

Leaf let out a sharp breath. She rose to her feet and headed toward Iris's desk, picking out a black permanent marker from the jar atop it. She set the report on the table and began blacking out information—the location, the date, the names. When she finished, she started shredding the paper and crumpling the pieces up, throwing them into the trash. Paul watched her suspiciously, and their eyes met again when she turned back around to face him. Her eyebrows were furrowed, causing a shadow to fall across her stern, unsmiling expression—and for a moment, Paul swore she looked just like Lance.

"I realize I'm a bitch, but I'm not inhuman," she said plainly. "I care about you and Iris, and I would never 'give up' on either one of you. May is a separate issue."

Leaf moved forward.

"So, I mean this out out of love when I say I don't want to see you back here until you seek after the help you need," she continued seriously. "Your mental health comes first, always. I am willing to do anything I can to help you—to put everything else on hold for you—but I am not willing to let you sit here and self-destruct while we work. I realize, though, that I am not the person you want help from. But you know who is."

"I'm not leaving until you actually address the reason why I came: May." Paul stood his ground.

"There's nothing I can do about May," Leaf said tiredly. "There might be an imbalance of power in my favor, but I try to even it out as much as I can, and I'm not going to intervene with Wallace for that reason. Remember, May still has the option of saying no."

"You only try when it's convenient for you," Paul muttered bitterly. "How many times have you tried strongarm Iris and I into doing your bidding? Look at where we stand now."

Leaf frowned, and Paul, without another word, turned on his heel and headed out the door, down the hallway. Misty was approaching him from the other side, and she stopped with a quick intake of air when she saw him.

"Paul-" she began, but he moved past her without so much as a glance, and Misty whipped her head around to watch him go.

The scent of the oncoming storm was strong when Paul stalked outside the gym and started down the sidewalk. A few blocks later, it began to sprinkle; yet, the cool, light rain did little to quell his inflamed anger. He and Leaf disagreed often, but he didn't think he had ever hated her as much as he did then.

The distance between the gym and his apartment complex gave him the time he needed to at least _try_ to sort out the noise in his head. His attempts to do so were frustrating—and disheartening—but they were enough to push him to do what he did next. Unable to wait, he grabbed onto the stair railing leading up to the second floor, where his apartment was located, and sank onto the first step.

He then pulled out his phone and dialed a number. He had it memorized.

"_Paul?_"

"Yeah, it's me," Paul mumbled.

"_Paul, I've been trying to talk to you for days now,_" Reggie half-chastised, though he sounded immensely relieved. "_I've been so worried, and the only thing I managed to hear about you outside of what's on the news was from Cynthia, whose also been trying to get in contact with you. She talked to Leaf the other day, and all Leaf said was that she trying to take care of it._"

"... I'm sorry." Paul couldn't think of much else to say. "I haven't been answering calls from anyone."

"_No, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry about Torterra; I knew how much you loved him._" Reggie's voice was soft though wretched. "_How are you doing now?_"

Paul knew he should have been prepared for his question. He wasn't.

"I'm... I'm not..." He swallowed. The words, he found, were harder to say than he would have thought, and he had to force them out. "I'm not doing well. At all."

"_Paul... ?_" Reggie sounded alarmed.

"I need you here. If you can. I need you." Paul's voice nearly cracked when he added, "Please."

_**June 23rd, 2009. Evening. Celestic Town.**_

Steven had been the one to receive the call; Cynthia had gone to bed much earlier, not long after putting their daughter to sleep, but he had stayed up to work on his research. That, however, was now on the backburner of his mind as he helped his tired and slightly frenetic wife pack for what could be a long trip.

"Are you sure you don't want me to drive you to Veilstone myself?" Steven asked as he folded one of Cynthia's dresses and laid it in her suitcase.

"No," Cynthia answered as she returned from the bathroom, having filled some travel bottles with shampoo, conditioner, and other hygienic necessities. Her hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail that hung limply down her backside, and she had traded her nightwear for jeans, a white shirt, and a gray cardigan—something comfortable for a flight. "I wouldn't want to wake Emily. I'll take a cab."

She put away the travel bottles in one of the pockets and closed the top, zipping it up. Steven sighed and pulled out his phone, searching for a 24/7 cab service to call. As he dialed, Cynthia pulled up her suitcase and left the room—to where, Steven didn't know.

"Yes, hello?" Steven began when the other end picked up. "We're trying to get from Celestic Town to the airport in Veilstone City for a 4 a.m. flight. Is that possible? ... We live at 7 E. Pasgloria Dr. ... Thank you. It's appreciated."

He set his phone aside and left to find Cynthia. The moment he stepped into the now-lit hallway, he noticed the door to Emily's room was cracked open. Steven peered inside, and sure enough, there sat Cynthia on the edge of their daughter's bed. He carefully slipped inside, and Cynthia didn't turn her head, despite his shadow falling across her.

"The cab will be here in twenty minutes," he informed her. Cynthia nodded, but said nothing as she reached out to gently brush a loose strand of hair out of Emily's face. Emily shifted in her sleep but didn't wake.

"I fear I have acted selfishly," Cynthia said suddenly, quietly.

"You cannot place blame on yourself for this," Steven assured her.

"I know." Cynthia withdrew her hand. "Despair has lived in the minds of us before, though, and I will not allow the silence of leadership let it fester this time."

_**June 23rd, 2009. Evening. Opelucid City.**_

"So what was Paul doing here?" Misty asked as she sat across from Leaf, sliding her phone into her back pocket after turning it on silent. Leaf craned an eyebrow.

"Did you expect him to stay holed up in his apartment for the rest of his life?"

"No, but..." Misty trailed off. "He looked pretty upset when he passed by me down the hall."

Leaf shrugged.

"He and I got into a bit of a tiff," she explained shortly.

"Over what?"

"Over nothing you need to know," Leaf dismissed, and Misty looked annoyed.

"I'm getting pretty tired of you keeping things from me—keeping things from everyone," Misty grumbled. "You haven't even been forthright about what's going on with this Houndoom, and I feel like I should know, because I'm a member of your Elite Four. Georgia's been here."

"I have no reason to worry about Georgia," Leaf pointed out. "I have reason to worry about you."

"Your lack of trust in me is kind of insulting."

"I'm sure it is, but here's the thing: Your love for Ash runs deeper than your loyalty to me."

"Again with wanting to lock out Ash and the others," Misty scoffed. "You're putting a strain on the group. You know, the word 'impartial' has been ruined for me because of you."

"With your open contempt for me, is it any wonder why I don't want to say anything to you?" Leaf posed the question wryly. "If you're really that interested in getting involved in this case, then I'll tell you what: Stay here in Unova instead of leaving for Pallet Town tomorrow with the others, and I'll give you full disclosure."

Misty paused, hesitating.

"I don't know how well that would go over," she said.

"Why?"

"I turn 23 on Saturday."

"So? I thought you didn't care much for celebrating your birthdays."

"Ash does."

"Look, it's your choice," Leaf sighed.

Misty's lips tightened. Then, she let out a long, resigning breath.

"Fine, I'll stay."

The office door creaked further open, revealing Iris as the person standing behind it. Her skin was a touch paler, her eyes a bit wider, and she had her cell phone clutched to her chest. Misty and Leaf perked up in alarm, immediately recognizing that something was awry.

"Iris, what's the matter?" Leaf asked.

Iris sucked in her breath.

"Anwir is dead," she said. "His sister called me back. He's been dead for days."

* * *

Paul collapsed on the sofa the moment he walked into his apartment, his face falling into his right hand. Regret had already decided to visit, coming shortly after his moment of weakness, but there wasn't much he could do about it then. He sat by himself for several minutes, his free hand hanging off the edge of the couch—and it wasn't long before he felt something push it up from under.

Paul unblocked his eyes and saw that his Weavile had moved beneath the palm of his hand. The Ice-type was gazing up at him with wide, piteous eyes, while his claws clung to edge of the sofa.

"Were you fed tonight?" Paul asked.

"Vile." Weavil nodded.

Paul sighed and brushed his fingers through Weavile's red feathers before pulling his hand back.

"I'm sorry. I haven't been attentive; I'll have to thank Angela."

"Weavile weav."

"... Well, I guess that's true, too."

Both trainer and Pokémon perked up when someone knocked at the front door. Suspicion immediately crossed Paul's expression, but he nevertheless rose up and went to answer. He raised his eyebrows when he saw who stood outside: Ash, his hair and shoulders damp from the storm.

"Hey-" Ash smiled crookedly and raised his hand to wave, but before he could finish his sentence, Paul shut the door in his face. "_What the-? What was that for?_"

"Tell Leaf to quit sending chaperons." Paul's voice rose just loud enough for Ash to hear.

"_What?_"

"I don't need someone watching me. Tell Leaf to knock it off."

"_Leaf didn't send me here!_"

Paul blinked and cautiously turned an eye back toward the door.

"Who did?"

"_No one._"

Paul pursed his lips and decided to open up again.

"No one?" he asked doubtfully, and Ash nodded.

"Misty texted me and said you-" he began, but his words were cut off a second time when Paul slammed the door closed once again. "_Hey! Misty didn't send me here either. She just told me you were back and thought I might want to know, 'cause I've been worried about you._"

Paul folded his arms, deciding what he should do. He noticed Weavile watching him from the couch, and a growl emerged from the back of Paul's throat.

"Come in," Paul said shortly before heading back to the sofa and sitting beside his Pokémon. Ash opened the door on his own and slid inside, but looked unsure of what to do and where to go. Paul gestured toward an armchair, and Ash nodded before jumping onto it.

"Where's Pikachu?" Paul asked, forming a depressed bridge with his hands and resting his chin on it. His eyes were averted from Ash's.

"I left him back with Ritchie," Ash admitted. "I thought it might be... I dunno, insensitive to bring him?"

"You don't need to tip-toe around me."

"I didn't know what to expect. No one's really heard from you." Ash paused before asking, "How're you doing?"

Paul turned a hardened gaze toward him.

"That's a stupid question that you should already know the answer to."

"Well, yeah, but..." Ash stopped, hesitating. "Gary's always said that sometimes you just gotta ask if people are okay so they have the chance to tell you they aren't."

"Are you actually expecting me to admit anything?"

"I guess not."

Paul dropped his hands again.

"Why are you actually here?" he mumbled. "Are you hoping to learn more about the investigation, too?"

"Uh... no?" Ash shook his head and smiled weakly. "I'm seriously just here to check in. I guess I've been curious about the investigation, but my plane for Kanto leaves tomorrow, so it doesn't matter. Not everything's conspiratorial." He pronounced 'conspiratorial' incorrectly, and Paul's lips twitched into a thin smirk.

"I suppose we've been in one so long that I've been conditioned to be suspicious," Paul said. Ash let out a strange chuckle.

"Yeah..." He threw his head back. "Man, how'd we get here... ? I guess it's kinda my fault. I should've known better than to compete in Kanto. I guess I just didn't realize what I was getting myself into—what I was getting all of us into."

"It goes further back than just you deciding to compete in Kanto," Paul murmured. "It's been a long seven years. ... I'm surprised you're actually leaving."

Ash's face twisted in confusion.

"Why?"

"Because it's in your nature to stick your nose in places where it shouldn't be. Like here."

"Sorry," Ash said sheepishly. "I just... Well, I guess I don't know how to stop myself. I don't even know what I'm supposed to say to you; I'd wish there were words that could make it better, but there aren't."

Paul stayed silent for a while, having no response to this. Then he asked, "Why are you leaving?"

The question appeared to catch Ash off guard.

"I... well, I've been here for a while, and I kinda feel bad making Serena and Clemont and Bonnie stick around," Ash said. "Plus, Leaf really wants me to go."

"Leaf wants you to leave?"

"Yeah."

Paul's lips tightened.

"Don't let Leaf tell you what to do; she forgets you're the reason we're here, and she should be grateful." He stood up and glanced out the window. "The storm's getting bad. You can stay here tonight, if you want."

He left the room—for where, Ash didn't know. Weavile leapt off the couch, following his trainer. Ash sighed and leaned back, his eyes rising toward the ceiling.

"Seven years," he repeated.

* * *

It was raining by the time Cilan and Burgundy returned to the city.

The radio's volume was turned down low, and the faint melodies were consumed by the pattering raindrops against the windshield and the grind of the wipers. Not a word had been exchanged between the two since they left Lacunosa Town; they were too entrenched in thoughts they hoped would not be real, and if neither voiced them, perhaps they wouldn't be.

"Turn left up here," Burgundy instructed suddenly. "It'll be the first complex to your right."

Cilan hummed and flicked on his turn signal, slowing to make a safe turn on the slippery road. When he pulled into the complex, Burgundy muttered a couple more directions until the car was parked straight in front of her building. Cilan shifted the gear to neutral and waited. Yet, neither he nor Burgundy moved.

"I suppose I'll see you in class Thursday, then?" he offered hopefully after a while.

Burgundy nodded and and turned to grasp the handle, preparing herself for the storm. Yet, she stopped at the last moment.

"Is it going to kill her?" she asked thickly. "The infection?"

Cilan stared, while her gaze remained turned toward the window, toward the raindrops running down it; and ultimately, he could not find it in himself to answer.

.

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**End of Part II: The Infection**

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_Part III to begin in two weeks._


	16. XV: In Which May Delivers Saving Grace

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**Part III: The Revisitation**  
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Chapter XV: In Which May Delivers Saving Grace

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_**June 24th, 2009. Morning. Opelucid City.**_

Consciousness came slowly, in a dull, sickly haze—and when it arrived, Iris gasped in a sharp breath, feeling a toxic heat bubble within her. She threw off her sheets and stumbled out of bed—she had enough awareness to briefly note Cilan wasn't in it with her—and into the bathroom. She cast herself in front of its porcelain throne, waiting.

The following minutes were consumed by feverish, uneven breathing as Iris tried to recenter herself—and it only happened when she felt cool, familiar fingers briefly brush against the back of her neck as they bunched together her hair and held it back. She didn't even have to look behind her to know who had come to nurse her; she recognized his touch.

"It's okay," Iris panted. "I don't think anything's actually going to come up."

"You might feel better if something did," Cilan said.

"I might feel _grosser_ if anything did." Iris slumped down, groaning. "How long is morning sickness supposed to last?"

"Through the first trimester—twelve weeks."

"And how far am I again?"

"Eleven."

Iris sucked in her breath before letting it out as a long sigh. She pushed herself back, and Cilan graciously let go of her hair and took a side-step away to give her some space. Iris crossed her legs and glanced down at herself, her hands falling to the now more-defined curve in her lower abdomen.

"And showing it," she added. Cilan frowned.

"I feel like you getting sick in the morning hasn't been as bad as this," he remarked.

"Not true." Iris shook her head. "Anemia aside, I really do think I feel worse when I'm more stressed. I threw up the morning of my inauguration, which, looking back, was probably a combination of being scared and being pregnant." She drew her arms around herself. "And now Anwir and Karina..."

Silence hung between them for a while, neither knowing what to do or to say. Finally, Iris reached up and gripped the edge of the bathroom counter to pull herself up; Cilan's hands gently found their way to her waist to help.

"I need to shower," she said. "Leaf had the Georgia E4 announcement embargoed until 10 a.m. today, and Georgia's supposed to be coming over around then."

"She's already here."

"What?" Iris gave him a strange look.

"Georgia's already here," Cilan repeated.

"What time is it?" Iris asked.

"Almost 10," he answered. "I let you sleep in."

"Well, then I definitely need to take a shower," Iris said, pressing the back of her wrist to her eyes.

"Will you be all right?"

"Yeah," Iris mumbled, already pulling her nightshirt over her head. "A shower will make me feel better, probably." She paused when she noticed his expression—distant, concerned, but most of all, tired. He looked older than he was, as if yesterday had piled weighty years upon his shoulders. She then asked, "But, will you be all right?"

* * *

The hair ties stashed in Paul's bathroom drawer had, in fact, belonged to Dawn at some point. It was only two or three years ago—sometime before he became Champion**—**that they had been sitting on his bed, together again after the paths that once took them in different directions finally converged.

"Your hair's getting longer," Dawn had remarked in a low voice, pressing her lips against the back of his shoulder after brushing away a few mauve strands.

"So is yours," Paul mumbled matter-of-factly. "It needs a cut. Mine, I mean. You can do whatever you want with yours."

He felt her smile against him before she pulled back. Her hands moved up under his neck as she bundled his hair together, and she reached for the hair tie on her wrist, pulling it up with her teeth. Paul didn't flinch—or even react at all—as she did this, too engrossed in his own notes to care. He was trying to devise a strategy to defeat Cynthia, and as long as she didn't detract from that too terribly, he didn't mind her presence.

"There," Dawn said when she finished, dropping her hands into her lap. "You know, I like your hair this way."

"Mm?" Paul cast her a cursory glance over his shoulder.

"I like your hair up," she repeated. "It looks good on you."

This memory had unexpectedly resurfaced in Paul's mind recently, and it had returned once more when he opened the drawer that morning and saw the several hair ties she had left for him there. He let out a resigning sigh as he snapped one up and pulled his hair back.

His phone sat on the counter. It was the first thing he had checked when waking up that morning, but there were no new messages, and no missed calls. The last message he had received was from Dawn several days earlier, a plea to talk, and he still had yet to reply.

An unwelcome scent—the smell of something burning—soon reached him, and with it came a dose of confusion. Yet, the haze in his mind cleared away as soon as he remembered what happened last night, and he dropped his hands to his side.

"Ash..." Paul murmured to himself, sounding more exasperated than anything.

He left the bathroom and headed toward kitchen, where a light gray smoke veiled his vision. Sure enough, Ash was at the stove, coughing as he tried to fan away the smoke that rose from... whatever he was cooking.

"What are you doing?" Paul tiredly demanded, holding his hand up to his nose and mouth.

"Sorry!" Ash apologized. "I wanted to make breakfast for you and me, but I noticed you were pretty much out of food, so I swung by a nearby store and picked up something to eat. It... didn't work out like I hoped it would, though."

Paul shook his head, growling under his breath. He picked up the pan and moved it to the sink, turning on the faucet. The water initially sputtered and hissed when it hit the hot pan, evaporating into steam—but when it dissipated, Paul turned off the sink and pulled the pan back to look at what was inside.

"What were you even trying to make?" he asked.

"Uh... scrambled eggs?" Ash offered.

Paul stared. Then, he sighed.

"Ash, you have to use milk and a nonstick pan," he said.

"You do?"

"Yes."

"Oh..." Ash trailed off, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. "Sorry, I don't cook much."

"Obviously," Paul muttered, retrieving a spatula to scrape off the pan's remnants of burnt food into the disposal. "How do you survive on your own?"

"Well, I live within walking distance of my mom's home, and she likes to have me over to eat when I'm in Pallet Town," Ash admitted.

"Mhm," Paul grunted in response, and Ash furrowed his eyebrows.

"Hey, you'd probably pick your mom's cooking over your own if she lived down the street from you!" Ash defended, but he soon stumbled over his words. "Or, um..."

Paul tightened his lips. Ash, he knew, was probably aware his mother was dead—those little details tended to slip, and her lack of presence in Paul's was life was obvious—but had only just remembered the fact. Paul wasn't sure if Ash knew under what conditions Lucia was gone, since Paul tended to stay mun on the story, but if he did, it wouldn't surprise him.

"Probably not," was all Paul said. He opened up the dishwasher and slid the now-burnt pan inside, then added, "There's a black nonstick pan with a white rim in the drawer below the stove, and probably a little bit of milk in the fridge still, if you have more eggs."

Ash grinned and said, "Okay." Before he could move to retrieve the needed materials, however, the doorbell rang. Ash perked up, while Paul looked suspicious.

"I can get it," Ash offered, leaving for the front room.

"If it's Leaf, tell her to go away," Paul instructed.

"Noted," Ash said before he disappeared. Paul decided to take it upon himself to pull out the needed food items for breakfast—after all, he hadn't eaten since yesterday morning when his friends nearly forced him to do so—but he kept his ear tuned to the activities of the front room, prepared to leave and kick Leaf out himself if Ash didn't do it.

"_Whoa, hey, I didn't know you were coming to Unova!_"

"_Oh, hello Ash. What a nice surprise._"

Paul stopped. He slowly raised his head, setting down the carton of half-empty milk he had pulled from his refrigerator. He recognized the voice.

"_I wasn't aware you and Paul were roommates._"

"_Oh no—I just visited last night and stuck around 'cause of the storm._"

Paul knew Reggie was coming—Reggie had promised he would last night, and he had never broken a promise to his younger brother—but Paul didn't know when, and it half-surprised him it was so soon. Paul decidedly meandered toward the front room, finding Reggie and Ash standing at the entrance. Reggie turned the moment Paul appeared, offering him a weak smile.

"Hey," Reggie said. "Good to see you."

"I was expecting you to call," Paul said, sliding his hands into his pockets. "I would have had Cole or Angela pick you up."

"We didn't want to be too troublesome," Reggie said.

Paul craned an eyebrow.

"'We?'" he repeated, and at that moment, Cynthia walked through the doorway. Paul's expression deadpanned as she, wearing her usual, placid smile, turned to face him.

"Hello Paul," she greeted amicably. He returned no such welcome.

"... Arceus," he mumbled, folding his arms before heading back into the kitchen.

* * *

"_If you're just joining us, there's breaking news this morning as the office of the Unova Champion has officially announced the person who will replace former Unova Elite Four member Grimsley Astor_, _who resigned from his position last month._" Iris could hear the television when she headed back into the living room, dressed for the day, though her hair was still damp. True to Cilan's word, Georgia was already there, sitting beside Trip on the sofa; Gary and Leaf were also present. The anchor continued, "_Georgia Hamilton has been the Icirrus City Gym Leader for two years, specializing in Ice-type Pokémon. Yet, she'll be diversifying her team with a different specialization for her tenure as an Elite Four member, called 'Dragon Busting.'_"

"Oh hey, look who decided to join us," Georgia said wryly, recognizing Iris's presence.

"Good morning, Georgia," Iris tiredly greeted. "Sorry, I was sick."

"Uh-huh, I heard," Georgia replied. "Before we know it, there's going to be a smaller, more obnoxious version of you in the world."

"And Cilan," Iris reminded her.

"Even worse."

Iris drew her arms around herself; she wasn't in the mood for banter.

"I know this is supposed to be a big day for you, but there are some things that happened yesterday that we ought to tell you," she said.

"Yeah, I already know about Karina." Georgia's voice suddenly became quieter, more reserved.

"You do?"

"Burgundy called me last night in tears, so I heard all about it," Georgia explained. "She's also pretty upset I never told her any of what's been going on."

Cilan pressed a fist to his mouth, appearing troubled.

"Yeah, well, so is everyone else," Leaf half-scoffed. She was curled up on an large, cushioned chair, an arm wrapped around her legs; she appeared almost, if not equally, as tired as Cilan, but none of them combined could compare to Gary.

"Hey, I understand why we're staying quiet about it," Georgia defended. "It'd be nice if you could trust all your friends with dangerous, panic-inducing information, but I guess that's life."

"There's more, though," Iris went on. "Anwir, the second person who was bit, is dead. His sister said she doesn't know where his Patrat is either."

Georgia frowned.

"Well... that's new," she sighed.

"Yeah." Iris nodded. A cell phone sounded off, and surprise briefly crossed her expression before she began searching her own person for the device.

"That's mine, Iris," Leaf said as she retrieved her phone out of her pocket. "Hello?"

"_Hi..._" The voice that patched through was thin, frail, but familiar. "_Is this Champion Leaf Greene?_"

"Indeed it is." Leaf raised an eyebrow.

"_This is Summer Morana; I don't know if you remember me._" Leaf inhaled sharply; what were the chances?

"I-I do remember you, Summer," she stammered. The others perked up at the mention of name.

"_You were right. I do have more to say._" Summer's voice quivered. "_That Houndoom is mine. My mom just left to pick up my dad at the airport in Opelucid City, so she's going to be gone for a while... If you can, please come—I want to tell you something._"

* * *

"Boy, I'm sure glad I decided to get the full dozen of eggs instead of the half," Ash chuckled as he scrapped up the last bite of his peppered scrambled eggs. "After burning the first four, there was still just enough for all of us."

He, along with Cynthia, Reggie, and Paul, sat at the dining table with faded blue placemats laid before them. Reggie and Cynthia were both maintaining amicable dispositions, though Paul appeared less friendly. His gaze was stuck on Reggie in an understated, though persistent glare, which Reggie was managing to ignore.

"This is quite good, Ash," Cynthia complimented. "It seems you've inherited some of your mother's skills."

"Aw, gee, I wouldn't say that..." Ash paused as a thought suddenly occurred to him, and he checked his phone. "Oh! I guess it's getting a little late now, huh? I told Misty I'd be staying here last night, but I've got a flight to catch this afternoon, and I'm sure everyone's wondering where I am."

"You're returning to Kanto?" Reggie asked.

"Yeah..." Ash answered. "I wouldn't mind staying longer, but there are some other things going on, and I, uh... guess it's better I leave?"

He picked up his empty dish and utensils, heading back into the kitchen. Cynthia carefully watched him until he was out of sight and earshot, then turned an eye to Paul, asking, "'Other things'... Does he mean the virus?"

Paul's eyebrows shot up, and he finally tore his gaze away from Reggie.

"How do you know about that?"

"Lance told Steven," Cynthia answered simply.

Paul appeared disgruntled, mumbling, "Of course _she_ can talk to who she wants..."

"What was that?" Cynthia inquired.

"Nothing." Paul shook his head.

Ash soon returned to the group, now empty-handed.

"Oh yeah, Reggie..." he began carefully. "Could I talk to you alone for a moment? I was thinkin' about something last night, and I wanted to call you, so I guess it's like fate or something you're here."

Surprise briefly crossed Reggie's expression, but he nodded, saying, "Sure thing, Ash."

He rose up to see Ash out, but before they left, Ash inclined his head toward Paul, adding, "Hey, thanks for letting me stick around last night." Paul only grunted in response.

Silence hung between Cynthia and Paul after the others left. Finally, she laced her fingers together and rested her chin on the delicate bridge, leaning toward him.

"You certainly don't seem happy I'm here," she remarked.

"I can't say I'm thrilled," Paul admitted, half-grumbling. "When Reggie said 'we,' I'd almost hoped he meant Cedar."

Cynthia smiled.

"I can't say I blame you."

"If that's the case, then why did you come?"

"Reggie asked me to."

Paul made a disgusted noise and looked away; Cynthia remained unfazed. She had half-expected him to be angry, and with justifiable reason. Admitting to Reggie he needed help, she imagined, was difficult enough. Her involvement was salt in the vulnerable wounds he was surely desperate to hide, a tear at his pride.

"Don't be too hard on your brother," Cynthia said. "He's very worried about you, and so am I. I would have wanted to speak with you whether your brother asked me to accompany him or not."

Paul seemed no less agitated.

"How much did he tell you?" he asked. Cynthia pursed her lips, considering her response.

"Enough," she finally replied.

When Reggie returned, Paul's gaze, hardening into a glare once more, immediately flicked back to him.

"Ash is a good friend," Reggie said, sliding back into his seat.

"He's an interesting character, all right," Paul grumbled. "I still can't tell if he's lied, or if I actually convinced Leaf her surveillance was pointless."

"Her 'surveillance'?" Reggie repeated inquisitively. Paul stayed quiet for a moment, suddenly realizing this wasn't something he wanted to answer—and that this conversation was going to be more difficult than he imagined.

"She's had me on suicide watch for almost a week," he finally elaborated, albeit gruffly. "She tried to disguise it as other things, hoping I wouldn't realize, but I did."

There was a crack in Reggie's demeanor, and he appeared briefly shaken; Cynthia maintained her composure.

"Does she... Does she have reason to worry?" Reggie picked his words carefully.

"No." Although it took Paul a moment to reply, his answer was firm. "... I think to be suicidal, you have to have intent. I don't have intent."

"Living while wishing you were dead, whether there is intent or not, is no way to live at all," Cynthia interjected calmly. Paul's eyes left Reggie again, staring at her. She then apologized, "Sorry, I don't mean to speak out of turn." She rose to her feet. "I understand I am unwelcome here. I do not wish to intrude, but I want to make it clear that I am available as your mentor, as I have always been. There are others things here in Unova to which I mean to attend."

She turned the door, but before she could take a single step, Paul said, "Wait." She stopped. He added, "Don't leave."

Cynthia faced him again, intrigued. Paul laid a hand over his fist as he continued, "I'm not... angry at you for being here."

"You do seem upset, and I _do_ understand," Cynthia assured him.

"Upset, sure, with myself, and a little bit with Reggie," Paul said bluntly, "but not you. I'm just..." He paused, searching for the right thing to say, whilst also trying to find it in himself to be honest in a way he never had been before—not with her, not with Reggie, not with Dawn, not even himself. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"I'm sorry for misleading you," he said. "I'm sorry for making you think I could do this; I'm sorry for convincing you I was capable. But most of all, I'm sorry I can't live up to what you wanted me to be."

Cynthia felt her throat tighten. She immediately dropped back down to her seat, trying to regain his fallen gaze.

"Paul, I don't think you're incapable," she said earnestly. "I've never thought that, and I still don't. And—and I want to make it clear that I'm not here because I see you as a problem to fix, as something to repair and wind up again. I'm here because I genuinely care, because I never wanted you to endure this kind of pain."

Reggie quietly hung back; this was precisely why he wanted Cynthia to come, whether she knew it or not, and whether Paul wanted it or not.

Paul was silent for a while longer. Then: "Leaf said that when you become Champion, your life becomes public property. I didn't realize how right she was until the past couple of weeks happened. And now... I'm thinking about the truth behind the fourteen, how Leaf; Iris; and I came to power, and me, and I'm... I don't know how I'll deal with the fallout."

"Inevitably, the truth about the fourteen and the Champion seat will come to light, whether it be in five years, or ten years, or twenty," Cynthia conceded. "But you... you're so reserved about yourself that there's hardly anything tangible about you that could leak."

"Would a diagnosis be tangible?" Paul asked, and Cynthia felt her mouth run dry. "I said I wasn't mad at you, and I'm not. But you being here shows that I've become something to circulate, and I've reached Dawn, Leaf, Barry, Kenny, Ash, and who knows who else."

Cynthia folded her hands.

"I see," was all she could say. Silence fell among the three of them for a while. Paul folded his arms and leaned back in his chair, averting his eyes from the others.

"You know, Napaj has had a pretty diverse pool of Champions, but crazy hasn't been among them," he muttered bitterly.

Cynthia quickly brought her head up again.

"That's not true," she said plainly, holding his gaze.

He stared back, but said nothing.

"Have you ever..." she continued thoughtfully, "... sat down and had a genuine conversation with Alder?"

"No?" Paul turned his head warily.

"He's a very smart man. Perhaps too idealistic, perhaps too sensitive, but very intelligent, and every bit deserving and worthy of the Champion title he once held, despite what Lance and your friend Leaf might think," Cynthia went on. "And, I think you might be surprised by how much you relate to him."

"How so?" Paul sounded doubtful.

"Alder knows tragedy," Cynthia explained simply, soberly. "He once lost his starter Pokémon, too—a Volcarona. In fact, he was probably close to the same age as you when it happened. He was so distraught by the loss that he began wandering the region, searching for something that would relieve his grief. That was when he met Pamela, whom he would later marry."

"I wasn't aware Alder was married," Paul admitted.

"Perhaps because Pamela's been gone since before you were born," Cynthia tacitly responded. She paused before adding, "She was far too young—only 38-years-old, leaving Alder alone with their teenage daughter."

"How do you know any of this? You would've been only a child when this happened." Paul's tone and expression were disaffected, foiling the lines of sympathy in Reggie's face. "More importantly, why are you telling me it?"

"I know, because Alder told me himself," Cynthia said. "His experiences shape his wisdom, and he is not afraid to impart it to others. He told me that losing his Volcarona, losing Pamela, became chains that sunk him into a deep depression, and that, for many years, he was too prideful to ask someone to unlock him."

"Is that the point of this story?" Paul dryly asked.

"The _point_ is," Cynthia replied, "that you are not the only one. It is no coincidence that come years later, when Alder finally reached his end, that he filled an open space in his Elite Four with Caitlin."

"Caitlin, the Psychic-type specialist?"

"Yes." Cynthia nodded. "But, more than a phenomenal Psychic-type trainer, she's a psychologist who's fought inner demons herself."

Paul folded his arms, and Reggie watched Cynthia for a moment before carefully moving his eyes back toward his younger sibling. They both knew where this was headed.

"Caitlin's been a long-time friend of mine," Cynthia went on. "I understand there are public anxieties associated with mental illness, and it's reasonable that you would be concerned, but I don't want to see you carry on like this. Nor does your brother, nor does Leaf, nor does anyone else. Caitlin can help you."

Paul unraveled his arms again, letting out a long, resigning sigh.

"All right."

_**November 17th, 2007. Late Morning. Celestic Town.**_

Lines of hard concentration creased in Emily's young face as she reached for a green crayon among the collection sprawled across the glossy surface of a short-legged table. Her father, Steven, sat nearby, watching as she began coloring in the leaves on the curved, squiggly branches of a tree she had drawn. Perhaps he was biased, but he had always felt she was a talented artist for her age.

Emily soon noticed her father's gaze and whined, "Dad, don't _watch_ me."

"Sorry." Steven smiled, turning away.

She appeared unsatisfied and pushed a blank sheet of paper toward him. "You should draw, too," she declared.

"Okay." Steven brought the paper closer to himself. "What should I draw?"

Emily paused, thinking carefully.

"A Ponyta," she decided.

"A Ponyta?"

"A _rainbow_ Ponyta."

"All right," Steven chuckled as he retrieved a multi-colored crayon. Hardly a few minutes passed before Cynthia walked into the room, cell phone in her hand.

"Steven?" she inquired. "You aren't doing anything important this morning, are you?"

"Well, I am coloring with Emily," he replied. "Why do you ask?"

"Gideon just called me; he has the flu and won't be able to ref the match today."

Steven frowned, saying, "My, that's terrible. I hope he feels better. Have you called Paul to reschedule?"

"Paul's actually supposed to be here in a few minutes, so I don't think it would do much good," Cynthia admitted. "When he arrives, I'll give him the option of rescheduling, but if he's still interested in battling today, then we'll still battle. The ref is more for his reassurance than mine."

"So no ref?"

"Well..." Cynthia hesitated. "I was wondering if you would be willing to do it."

"There would be a clear bias," Steven reminded her. "We're married."

"Sure, a bias in _my_ favor; I think Paul's more worried about me going easy on him. He's very stubborn about making sure he wins this match fairly."

"Third time's the charm?"

"Perhaps." She smiled. Both she and her husband perked up when they heard a couple of knocks at the door. Emily's focus didn't break, as she now reached for a pink crayon to draw flowers.

"I'll get that," Cynthia said as she headed toward the front door, opening it up. Not surprisingly, Paul stood there with a deadpan expression. Unexpected, however, was Dawn standing beside him with her usual cheerful disposition. "Hello! So glad you could make it."

Cynthia invited both of them inside, shutting the door again.

"Dawn, it's such a pleasant surprise to see you here," Steven said, rising to his feet.

"I'm sorry if I'm intruding," Dawn apologized. "I wanted to come watch the battle, and Paul didn't think you would mind."

"Of course not! You're welcome to do so," Cynthia said. "I'm afraid we've run into a bit of a snag, though. The referee whom I contacted to oversee the match had to cancel due to sickness. I asked Steven if he would be willing to do it, but it's your choice."

"I'm fine if Steven refs," Paul said plainly. His eyes smoldering with a determination unlike Cynthia had ever seen from him before; perhaps the third time really would be the charm.

"Are you sure?" Steven asked.

"I trust your judgement," Paul said simply.

"Well, then," Steven began, "please excuse me while I get my stopwatch."

Emily pouted when he left, but quickly returned to her drawing. Dawn smiled gently at the young child and said, "Hi Emily, how are you today?"

Emily carefully rose her head to look up at her.

"Hi," she replied in a shy, quiet voice.

"What are you drawing?" Dawn asked.

"You can't see until I'm done." Emily suddenly hunched protectively over her work.

Dawn stifled a laugh in response but said, "Okay."

"Is there anything I could get you while we wait?" Cynthia asked. "Any water, something to eat?"

"I'm fine; thank you," Paul politely dismissed.

"Same, but thank you," Dawn echoed him.

"Well, then we can head to the field out back," Cynthia offered. Paul nodded and moved ahead, while she lingered with Dawn.

"Are you two together again?" Cynthia asked.

"Mhm," Dawn hummed affirmatively. "We've actually been together for a while, since he came back to Sinnoh. I'm not surprised he didn't say something about it. He's kind of a no-nonsense person when it comes to anything involving you."

"Nevertheless, I'm happy for you both," Cynthia said. The two women caught up with Paul, and Cynthia slid open the glass door leading to the backyard, where a full, basic battlefield spread across most of the area. Garchomp was off to the side, sunning near a patch of grass.

"Good morning, Garchomp," Cynthia greeted. "Are you ready to battle today?"

The Dragon-type opened a single eyelid.

"Gar." Garchomp rose up to its full stature, but turned to look back at the house. Cynthia blinked, mildly confused, and looked back, too. Emily was standing barefooted in the doorway, holding her picture in both of her hands.

"Emily, do you want to watch the battle?" Cynthia asked, approaching her daughter.

"Can I?" Emily asked.

"If you go put on your shoes, you can."

"Okay." Emily nodded, but promptly stuck her picture out to her mother. "I made it for you."

"For me?" Cynthia blinked but accepted the gift. Her eyes scanned the picture, and she smiled. "Thank you, Emily. It's lovely."

Emily nodded again and turned around, heading back inside, presumably to get her shoes.

"What did she draw?" Dawn asked, returning to Cynthia's side with Paul in tow.

"Torterra, it appears." Cynthia flipped the paper to show them. Indeed, the drawing featured a kiddish Torterra with pink blossoms sprouting from the tree atop its shell. "She's loved the species since she saw Paul battle with his Torterra here last time."

"My Torterra?" Paul raised an eyebrow.

"She likes your Torterra, but I'm afraid she's still scared of you," Cynthia chuckled. Paul pressed his lips into a hard line and looked at the picture again. This time, he noticed a multi-colored, wavy design hanging above Torterra's head.

"What's that supposed to be?" Paul asked, referring to the rainbow emblem. Cynthia pressed a hand to her chin, examining the image more closely.

"I think she was trying to draw the symbol of Mega Evolution," she decided. "Steven's taken an interest in Mega and Key stones recently, and he's been researching them. I'm sure Emily's picked up on it."

"Mega Evolution?" Dawn inquired.

"Haven't you heard of it? Don't let Steven know if you haven't; he'll talk at you for hours about it," Cynthia laughed.

"Oh no, I've heard of it," Dawn corrected. "I didn't know Torterra had a Mega Evolution."

"They don't. At least, not that we're aware of," Cynthia said wryly. "Steven would know far more than I would, but many believe there are far more Pokémon capable of Mega Evolution than we would think. Perhaps we simply haven't discovered the correct keys to tap into their power, yet."

"Have you ever Mega Evolved one of your Pokémon?" Dawn asked.

"Oh yes." Cynthia nodded. "I and my Garchomp are in possession of a Mega and Key stone. I typically don't use it in standard battles, though."

"Then how come you've never used it against me?" Paul interjected suddenly, catching Cynthia by surprise. "We've battled twice. I've never seen you Mega Evolve your Garchomp."

"I felt it might be unfair, considering you don't have access to Mega Evolution yourself," Cynthia explained.

"You said you don't use it in standard battles," Paul went on. "This is not a standard battle. If I'm going to take your title from you, then I'd like for it to be because I battled and defeated you at full-strength."

Cynthia stared. Then she let out a light chuckle.

"Very well," she agreed. "I'll use it."

_**June 24th, 2009. Late Morning. Opelucid City.**_

Nurse Joy was, for once, stationed at the front desk when Ash returned to the Pokémon Center that morning. Of course, he understood why; the image of Houndoom throwing himself at the window, his blood trickling down the clear glass, was etched in Ash's memory. He hadn't heard any updates regarding Houndoom's condition, but with Nurse Joy's absence, he assumed she was still dedicating a lot of him to managing his behavior and health.

"Hey," Ash greeted, approaching the desk.

"Hm? Can I help you?" The nurse blinked, as though she didn't recognize him. "Do you need keys to a room?"

"Uh... I have one." Ash appeared estranged. "We're actually going to be checking out later this afternoon."

"Oh, I see," Nurse Joy said with a light of realization in her eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm probably not the Nurse Joy you know here; I'm her sister. She called me to come help her. One of her patients is very sick, and she needed someone to man the front desk and care for any other Pokémon that might need help."

"Is this patient a Houndoom?"

"How did you know?"

"Kind of had an experience with him." Ash paused before adding, "Well, next time you talk to her, let her know I'm thinkin' about her and all the hard work she does, okay?"

"Will do..."

Ash moved toward the stairway, heading up to his room. He stopped on the way there, however, when he noticed the room where Bonnie and Serena stayed was cracked. He poked his head inside to see both of the young women packing up, plus Clemont, who was sitting on the edge of a bed.

"Oh, hey Ash," Clemont greeted when he noticed his friend. "Ritchie said you were at Paul's last night."

"Yeah, I was," Ash replied, pushing the door open enough to walk inside.

"How is he?" Serena asked, concerned.

"I mean..." Ash began carefully. "I think he's trying hard to hide that he's hurting, but there's only so much you can do, you know? It's kinda worrying actually, but his brother's here, so I know he'll be all right."

"Reggie's here?" Ritchie asked, appearing in the room behind Ash with Misty also in tow. Ash perked up and glanced behind him to see that Ritchie's right and left shoulder were occupied by Sparky and Ash's Pikachu respectively. Pikachu lit up seeing his trainer, and he quickly jumped shoulders, prompting a chuckle from Ash.

"Yeah, Reggie's here, and Cynthia, too," Ash said, giving his Pikachu a pat.

"Sounds like an intervention," Ritchie mused.

"Hm? I guess I hadn't thought of it like that," Ash admitted. He decided to change the subject. "Did you guys hear from Nurse Joy that Houndoom is sick?" The others appeared briefly surprised by this question.

"I think Houndoom was already sick, Ash," Misty said.

"Well, yeah, but it sounds more serious now," Ash said. "Or, maybe I'm reading into it too much. I don't know."

Misty pursed her lips and looked away.

"You ought to start packing," she remarked. Ash appeared slightly put off by her comment—an unsubtle maneuver to shut down the conversation—but he nodded.

"That reminds me," Ritchie began, "what time to do we want to leave for the airport? I want to call a cab ahead of time."

"You know, I bet if you asked, Drew would take you there himself," Misty suggested.

"Drew's rental car only seats five, including him," Ritchie pointed. "There's six of us."

"Five," Misty corrected. "It would work if Bonnie sat on someone's lap."

"Five?" Bonnie gave her a strange look. "No, wait, there's me, Serena, Clemont, you—"

"—I'm actually not going back to Kanto," Misty confessed, drawing a few surprised looks.

"Huh? Why?" Ash looked alarmed.

"Yeah, you didn't mention anything about this," Ritchie added.

"I'm staying here to help Leaf," Misty elaborated. "It was a bit of a last-minute decision."

"Do you know more about what's going on, then?" Ash pressed.

"I honestly don't." Misty shook her head.

Misty had expected Ash to be a little disappointed she was staying behind, maybe even frustrated, or torn; a separation meant he would miss her birthday, but she was aware he felt guilty over dragging his Kalosian friends through the recent messy affairs. What she did not expect was a shadow of doubt, of suspicion to cross his face.

"Right," he said, falling back, and Misty felt her throat tighten.

_**June 24th, 2009. Late Morning. Mistralton City.**_

Leaf had insisted she go alone. Both Gary and Iris had very much wanted to join her for this second interview, but Leaf smartly pointed out that the situation was delicate, and Summer had only agreed to speak with her. More people could stress her out and cause her to clam up, and they desperately needed Summer to talk. She was the only living person who could potentially provide insight into the outbreak of the virus.

Leaf paused just as she reached the door leading to Summer's room and pressed a hand to her face, taking in a deep breath. The last time she was there, she had dissolved into a panic attack, and she couldn't let that happen again.

She carefully opened the door and slid inside. Immediately, her breath caught at the sight of the 17-year-old Summer. It had only been four days since they last met, but her condition had visibly worsened. Her skin was more pale than before, and the faint touches of pink in her lips had vanished almost entirely. Leaf could also see a purple streak rising up Summer's chest from beneath her hospital gown. Worse, it appeared there was something wrong with her eyes; the scleras, instead of their normal glossy white color, were a soft shade of lavender.

"Champion Greene," Summer breathed, trying to sit up.

"It's okay," Leaf assured her, hurrying to her side and easing her back to the bed. "Please, just call me Leaf."

Summer nodded, looking nervous. Leaf reached for stool, pulling it close up to the edge of the bed.

"I'm sorry you had to come all this way," Summer said. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you when you were here. My mom—she and I were both scared, but I immediately knew there was so much I wanted to say after you left, but I couldn't do it with her there. I had to call you when she left, or it would eat me up."

"You don't have to justify yourself to me, Summer," Leaf said. "I understand. What's important is that I'm here, and that we're able to talk now."

Summer nodded again, then buried her face in her hands.

"That Houndoom is mine," she bleated, her voice muffled by her own skin. They were getting straight into the heart of the matter; their time, after all, was limited. Leaf assumed Summer would want to be finished prior to the return of her mother.

"You said as much over the phone," Leaf said carefully. "Why did you deny it when we first met, though?"

"I knew deep inside he was mine, and I recognized him when you showed me the picture of him on Coordinators Weekly—" Her eyes moved toward the copy Leaf had give her, which sat on a nearby table. "—but I couldn't believe he would do what you described, and I didn't _want_ to believe it. I thought the guilt would crush me, because it would be all my fault."

"You can't blame yourself for Houndoom's behavior."

"No, no. You see—" Summer's voice wobbled as her eyes filled with tears. "—it _is_ my fault, because I'm the one to blame for the way Houndoom is."

"What do you mean?" Leaf asked.

"This is why my mom and I were scared; why she was so opposed to you coming to talk to me." The first tears began to fall, and Summer brushed them away with her palm. "I did something very wrong."

"Tell me; I'm not going to be upset," Leaf said gently. Summer took a moment to collect herself, though she was still sniffling.

"There was this man," she began shakily, "we met while I was passing through a small town in Unova-"

"-What town?" Leaf briefly interrupted, pulling out a notebook and pen to write this information down. She had been in such a hurry to get down to Mistralton City that she had forgone her recorder—she wasn't sure how much battery power was left, and she wasn't making _that_ mistake again.

"Ambiga Town," Summer answered. "I had just entered one of the Don George Battle Club tournaments there; I had gone specifically because it was a tournament for Fire-types, and I entered my Houndoom. We lost in the final round, though. The next day, after letting Houndoom recover in the Pokémon Center... that's when we met him."

"Who?"

"He introduced himself as a man of science, and a friend," Summer said. "He said he'd watched me in the tournament and that he was impressed with Houndoom and I, but asked if we were disappointed we'd lost." Her voice wavered again. "We said we were—and he offered to 'help' us." The tears started again, and she futilely tried to wipe them away. "I knew it was illegal to use performance-enhancing drugs, but he insisted it wasn't like that—and so I gave my consent."

Leaf inhaled sharply; the virus had been _injected_ into Houndoom.

"What was his name?" Leaf pressed.

"I don't..." Summer shook her head. "I don't remember exactly. It was kind of unusual. Collier? Colson?"

Leaf frowned but scribbled the names down.

"It wasn't long before Houndoom started acting weird," Summer went on. "We were on our way to Mistralton, and he was getting more and more aggressive—and then he bit me. He's never bitten me before, and not like that. That was why I originally went to the hospital, because he got down the bone... and later, I started getting sick."

"What happened to Houndoom?" Leaf asked.

"The police took him," Summer answered in brief.

"The police in Mistralton?" Leaf prodded her further.

"Yeah."

"He escaped though, didn't he?" Leaf asked, and Summer nodded. "Do you know what they were planning to do with Houndoom?"

"I think... send him to a rehabilitation facility?" Summer strained to remember. "There was an officer who talked to me; she said a representative had come and offered to take him."

"Do you know the name of the facility?"

"I..." Summer closed her eyes.

"Please try to remember, Summer," Leaf practically pleaded.

"It started with an 'S,' I think," Summer said. "It sounded really scientific."

"_SAMPLe?_" Leaf's voice pitched higher.

"Yeah, that's it."

Leaf furrowed her eyebrows and pressed a fist to her mouth. It was the first she had heard of the start-up in a while, and she was surprised it had so quickly come to mind. The problems with lack of communication and knowledge as to where the victims' Pokémon fell in line with Paul's negative impression of the organization, but...

It also fell in line with the disorganization of start-ups.

"Is my Houndoom okay?" Summer asked suddenly. "Is he alive still?"

"Ah..." The question pulled Leaf out of her thoughts. "To my knowledge, yes. But he has a dangerous virus that is causing his behavior."

"A virus?"

"I think that man might have put a virus into your Pokémon that's causing him to grow violent," Leaf explained. She hesitated before adding, "And I think you might have it, too."

"Me?" Summer shrunk back. "Is there a cure?"

"Not yet," Leaf answered. "But we think we might be able to find it through your Houndoom, but we need your permission to work with him."

"You won't hurt him, will you?" Summer asked.

"I know the person who will lead the study," Leaf said. "He'll only follow ethical, humane procedures."

"... Okay," Summer agreed. "I'll give you permission."

Leaf nodded, feeling a weight being lifted off her chest. Then she noticed Summer's hands trembling in her lap.

"Don't worry." Leaf reached out to touch her hands. "Everything will be okay." But Summer shook her head.

"I-I'm not shaking because I'm nervous," she said. Leaf withdrew her hand. The weight suddenly returned, dropping into the pit of her stomach.

"I'll get the forms," Leaf said quietly, rising to her feet.

_**June 24th, 2009. Afternoon. Opelucid City**_

It had been a while since Drew felt that tired.

Sleeplessness, and the exhaustion that came with it, began to creep back into his life not long after his father died. His loss, his shared tension with Leaf, the question of his relationship with May, the very future of May—they were all hours tacked onto his nights, and they hung from his eyes the next day. May, he knew, was starting to notice, too.

"Hey," May began, laying a hand on his spine as he hunched over his desk, "what time are Ash and the others going to the airport?"

"Their flight leaves at 5:30 p.m., so I'm picking them up at 4," Drew answered.

"Would you mind if I came?" May asked. "In fact, it'd be great if we all—you know, Dawn, Zoey, Kenny, Barry—went. It would be nice to say goodbye."

"There isn't enough room to tow the six of us around plus Ash and Ritchie and his Kalosian friends," Drew said.

"Oh, I know," May clarified. "We'd just say goodbye at the center, and then walk home while you take them to the airport."

"I don't want you walking home alone, even if it will still be daylight," Drew said. "Not with everything that's happened recently."

"I'll wait for you there, then."

Drew still looked hesitant, but he eventually resigned with a sigh.

"All right," he agreed.

"Yo!" Barry greeted as he bounded up to the couple. "We're heading down the block to grab some food at that little sandwich place. Wanna come?"

"Sure!" May perked up.

"I'll pass."

"Wha... ?" Kenny questioned as he, Dawn, and Zoey approached. "Why not?"

"I've got some things to do here," Drew hastily replied. "But you guys go enjoy yourselves."

His companions appeared a little concerned by his behavior, but May nevertheless offered him a weak smile and nodded.

"I'll bring you something back, m'kay?" she said, pecking him before trying to usher the others out with her. Zoey, however, managed to stay behind.

"You look tired," she remarked when the others were gone.

"It was a long night." Drew shrugged off her comment.

"Not for the right reasons, I'm guessing," Zoey said wryly. "What happened at that dinner?"

"Nothing much, really."

"'Nothing much' is still something," Zoey pressed..

"We weren't the only ones who showed up with a hidden agenda, that's all," Drew said, trying to downplay it.

"Zoey, are you coming?" they heard Dawn call after her.

"Yeah, hang on!" Zoey yelled back before returning her gaze to Drew. "Hidden agenda?"

"Never mind." Drew shook his head. Zoey definitely wasn't satisfied, but she knew Drew wasn't going to give her any ground.

"All right, well..." Zoey took a step back, moving toward the door. "We'll see you soon."

With her leave, Drew was the only person left in the office. He brushed his fingers back through his hair and groaned as he rested his head on his desk. It occurred to him that perhaps he should schedule an appointment and get his prescription renewed, but he scratched out the thought. He wasn't ready to hop onto meds again just yet; he could give it some more time, see if it would pass.

It wasn't long before he felt himself begin to fade—but just as the last few strings of consciousness were about to snap, someone strung them again, bringing them new life. Drew quickly sat upright with a sharp intake of air, breathing, "May-" He stopped short, however, when he realized who had actually woken him up. "Max?"

"Hey," Max greeted warily. "You okay?"

"Yeah..." Drew looked suspicious, too, and it squashed his embarrassment regarding being found sleeping. His girlfriend's younger brother was one of the last people he would have expected to see then. "Aren't you supposed to be a plane back to Hoenn right now? May went to breakfast with you and your parents this morning to say goodbye."

"I decided to stick around longer," Max replied shortly.

"Don't you have responsibilities at the gym?"

"Not really." Max shrugged. "League activity is on hold. My dad's going to help take care of things while I'm here."

"How'd you shake that?" Drew folded his arms.

"Well, uh, I actually told them you said you were looking for an extra hand at the CIU and that I was willing to pitch in," Max sheepishly admitted. "So, I'm actually here wondering if there's anything I can do to help."

Drew stared at him.

"You_ lied_ to your parents?" he finally asked.

"It was for a good reason," Max retorted.

"The CIU isn't _desperate_," Drew said. "Help is nice, but we don't need it. What's your real reason for being here?"

Max visibly hesitated, which surprised Drew. Max tended to assume the authority of a know-it-all—he hadn't grown out of the phase yet, if he ever would—and when he was unsure about something, he pretended he was confident. It almost reminded Drew of Leaf.

"To keep an eye on May, I guess," Max finally answered.

"... Why?"

Max was silent for a moment longer, considering his answer.

"Maybe, I'm reading into things too much," Max began slowly, "but I kind of... got the impression Wallace was trying to recruit her for being Champion."

Drew let out a breath.

"You noticed it, too?" he asked.

"Oh, so I'm not going crazy?" Max's brow shot up.

"No, Wallace was definitely testing the waters," Drew confirmed, "and they probably felt awfully warm to him, with how May is. How would you have known, though?"

"I'm not dumb, Drew." Max rolled his eyes. "I know how the G-Men works, too. It's not some special knowledge only you have."

"Well, I already talked to Paul yesterday," Drew dismissed. "I was going to talk to Leaf myself, but he wanted to handle it. I don't know what the outcome of that conversation was—if he managed to convince Leaf to tell Wallace to knock it off."

Max appeared put off by his comment.

"I'm not here to _prevent_ Wallace from making May the Champion," Max clarified.

"_What?_" Drew looked estranged.

"Like I said, I just want to keep an eye on things," Max elaborated. "I mean, if this is really going to happen, I want to make sure May's not forced into it, and that it's done well. Iris's whole nomination was botched, and on top of it, I don't know if she was super interested in being Champion in the first place, and look, she was almost killed. May and I fight, but she's my sister, and I don't want the same thing to happen to her."

"You're okay with May being Champion?" Drew questioned.

"I don't know if I'm _okay_ with it; I haven't had a ton of time to process that Wallace seems to be seriously considering her as his replacement," Max answered. "But, uh, I think she would do a good job, I guess. If it was my choice, I'd rather no one be picked at all. I'd rather that title be won fair-and-square, but that's not really how things work anymore." Max adjusted his glasses before asking, "Why _aren't_ you okay with May being Champion?"

"You do realize we're talking about the G-Men here, right?" Drew threw back.

"Sure I do," Max replied. "I've got just as many issues with the G-Men, except I probably don't hate Leaf as much as you. But wouldn't it be good have good people like May in there trying to turn it around? I think that's pretty much the only reason why Leaf, Paul, and Iris are there."

Drew was silent, trying to conjure a response to Max's question—but he soon ran out of time, as the door opened again, and in came May and company, plus several other CIU staffers that were returning from lunch.

"Max?!" May's eyes widened when she saw him, and she hurried toward him.

"Hey, May." Max grinned.

"What are you doing here?" May asked. "I thought you had left with Mom and Dad!"

"He's joining our staff," Drew said suddenly, catching both May and Max by surprise. "He's going to be helping us plan and set up the special contest."

"Seriously?" May's face lit up before she beamed at her brother.

"Uh... yeah, yeah!" Max nodded. May embraced him, and Max glanced over her shoulder at Drew, mouthing the words, "Thank you."

* * *

Leaf had given Gary with one important stipulation over their brief phone conversation: hurry.

Gary was not always appreciative of his girlfriend's underhanded tactics—and speeding along the process of getting a teenage girl to sign permission forms before her mother could step in was definitely underhanded—but he could agree their options were limited and there was not much room for ethical objections.

The young researcher let out a frustrated breath when he walked inside the Opelucid Pokémon Center and saw no one at the desk. He walked up to counter and rang the bell, waiting for Nurse Joy to come—but she never did. Gary craned an eyebrow and leaned over the counter, calling her name. Again, no response.

"Gary?"

Gary straightened up when he heard the familiar voice, and he spun on his heel to see both Ash and his Pikachu standing behind him.

"Ash," Gary acknowledged, sliding his hands into his pockets. "Have you seen Nurse Joy? I need to speak with her; it's pretty urgent."

"There's actually two of them today!" Ash said. "One came to help run the front desk, and the other is back taking care of Houndoom. So, uh... I'm not sure where the first one is. She should be here."

"Taking care of Houndoom?" Gary inquired.

"Yeah." Ash nodded. "The one I spoke to said he was sick."

"_Sick?_ How?"

"She didn't say."

Gary shook his head and muttered "I don't have time for this" under his breath before turning toward the doors leading into the back rooms of the center, blowing past the "Employees Only" sign.

"Hey, wait!" Ash hurried after him, staying on his heels as he winded down the hallway, past several definitely confused Audino, who weren't used to non-staffers so boldly walking in. Gary was headed toward the room where Houndoom was kept, but he was intercepted when he rounded the corner and ran into a Nurse Joy.

"Oh! Excuse me," she apologized. "Are you a volunteer?"

"No, I'm actually-" Gary began, but he was cut off.

"Hey—" A more irritable Nurse Joy, one whose patience was drained by exhaustion among other issues, approached. "—I told you before: No one is allowed back here unless they're a volunteer or employee."

"I know. I'm sorry," Gary said hastily. "This was important, though. I need to get permission forms for me to work with Houndoom. We found its trainer, and she's willing to sign him over to our research."

Nurse Joy's eyes widened, and her lips parted in sadness. The other Nurse Joy appeared troubled, too.

"You're too late," the first Nurse Joy said quietly.

"What?" Ash stepped forward, looking confused.

"I'm sorry." The second Nurse Joy's gaze fell. "Houndoom died. He _just_ died."

* * *

Paul couldn't recall Reggie ever being a big coffee-drinker when he was younger; it wasn't until Cedar came along that Paul began seeing the beverage more and more in his elder brother's hands. Paul himself didn't mind it terribly, but he wasn't in the mood for any, as he touched the still-warm rim of his mug.

"How are you feeling?" Reggie asked gently. Cynthia had left earlier, gone to check into a hotel and presumably call Caitlin.

"Nothing, right now," Paul answered flatly. To Reggie, Paul realized, this answer might be concerning; to himself, though, it was a welcome relief, a strange and much-needed sense of peace. A short pause followed before he asked, "How many other people did you tell?"

"Well... Maylene knows I'm here, obviously," Reggie admitted.

"I would expect she'd know, and I don't mind as long as she doesn't gossip to Solidad about it," Paul said bluntly.

"I don't think she will."

"You told no one else?" Paul went back to his original question.

"No."

"Not even Dad?"

"No, Dad doesn't know," Reggie assured him. "He knows about what happened to Torterra, though."

"Everyone does." Paul pushed aside his mug and sighed. "I haven't picked up the ashes yet."

"Do you want them?" Reggie asked.

"I don't know." Paul gave a half-hearted shrug. "It seems kind of pointless. He's gone. He doesn't exist anymore. The ashes aren't him; they're ashes."

"They might be a nice memento."

"Hardly."

"You could spread them somewhere if you wanted," Reggie suggested.

"If you want them so bad, why don't you go get them?" Paul grumbled, now a twinge annoyed.

"I can't." Reggie shook his head. "I wasn't his trainer."

For some reason, that statement shook Paul, though he didn't let it show. Wasn't. Past tense. Paul had spent thirteen years _being_ Torterra's trainer, thirteen years being an "is." Paul thought he had already accepted the reality Torterra was gone, but it came back swinging with another painful reminder.

"Come with me, then," Paul said quietly, rising to his feet.

* * *

"Houndoom's dead?!" Bonnie exclaimed in both shock and horror as she, along with the others, stood in front of Gary, who was slumped down on one of the center's benches. Ash sat next to him, looking almost as distressed—not only by the loss, but also by how deeply affected Gary was. The researcher had become distraught upon the news, for reasons Ash couldn't fully understand; Gary wasn't willing to explain in-depth.

"Yeah," Gary mumbled, running his fingers through his hair. "Nurse Joy said he went into cardiac arrest."

"What is that?" Ash asked.

"It's a sudden stop in blood circulation due to the heart failing to contract, or failing to contract effectively," Clemont explained. "It prevents oxygen from reaching the brain."

"That's horrible..." Serena frowned, drawing her arms closer to herself. She, along with the others soon to be returning to Kanto, had their luggage on standby. After finishing packing, they had gone downstairs to wait for Drew to come pick them up, but found both Gary and Ash mourning.

The center's front doors slid open, and in came the group of coordinators and other company—including Max.

"Hello everyone!" May cheerfully greeted, failing the read the mood of the room.

"Hey." Misty smiled, but didn't sound nearly enthused as her friend. She turned an eye to Max. "Max, I thought you were supposed to be home in Hoenn by now."

"I was." Max adjusted his glasses. "I decided to stay around and help out the CIU. It's not like I'll have much to do back at the gym anyway."

"Fair enough," Misty tacitly replied.

"What's the matter?" Zoey asked, folding her arms. "You all look like you've returned from a funeral." Her remark was met with a spell of silence, and she soon realized perhaps she was not far off the mark. Finally, Ritchie cleared his throat to speak.

"That Houndoom died," he said plainly.

"Excuse me?" Dawn pushed herself forward.

"Yeah, he was cardiac arrested," Ash said.

"He went _into_ cardiac arrest," Gary corrected.

"I would've thought they would've sent that thing to rehab days ago," Kenny said.

"Nurse Joy wasn't able to, because she was still trying to reset his jaw correctly," Gary mumbled. "We needed him here for our investigation anyway."

"Your investigation?" Drew pressed.

"Don't worry about it." Gary straightened up before leaning his head back and letting out a long sigh. "I need to call Leaf. Go catch your flight." He stood and left to find somewhere more private. Ash jumped to his feet in alarm.

"Wait, Gary!" he called after him, but Gary didn't turn his head. Ash fell back. "Agh..."

"Well, this is terrible terms to leave on," Ritchie remarked, frowning.

"I'll see if I can talk to him," Misty offered, breaking away from the others to follow Gary. "You guys can at least... load your things into the car?"

Even after her suggestion, it took a while for anyone to move. Drew pressed his lips into a hard line, which earned a quick glance from May. Ash was visibly conflicted, unsure of what he should do or say. Finally, Serena let out a resigning sigh and picked up her bag.

"Where's your car?" She directed the question toward Drew.

"It's out front," he answered. "I'll take you there."

"Oh, shoot." Ash hit himself. "I didn't finish packing."

"What?" Drew gave him a disbelieving look.

"Sorry!" Ash sheepishly apologized. "I came down here to grab a snack, but then I ran into Gary and... Don't worry, I only have a couple things left, though!" He jogged away, going back up the stairs. Bonnie let out an exasperated breath and looked back at her older brother.

"If you take my stuff to the car, I'll help Ash finish, m'kay?" she said before heading after the trainer and his Pikachu.

Ah, wait-" Before Clemont could finish, though, she was gone, and he fell back. "Okay..."

* * *

"Hey Gary!" Misty caught up with the young researcher in a more secluded section of the Pokémon Center, cut off from regular traffic. When he glanced back at her, she implored, "Tell me what's going on. It isn't like you to act so dejected."

He looked annoyed she had followed him, but answered, "Leaf knows the trainer of that Houndoom. Her name's Summer, and she's in the Mistralton City hospital, because her Houndoom bit her, and it's made her sick. Summer was prepared to sign permission forms for me to study Houndoom, but now that's trashed, and now I'm going to tell Leaf, and Leaf's going to have to tell a teenager her Pokémon is dead."

"Why are you wanting to study Houndoom?" Misty asked.

"Didn't Leaf tell you?"

"Leaf hasn't told me much of anything, because she's worried I'll bring Ash into it," Misty said.

"That's fair."

"Oh, come on." Misty glared.

"Hey, I get why you're frustrated, but I also understand where Leaf's coming from," Gary defended. "She's trying to prevent mass hysteria in Unova, which, in turn, protects Iris from an even more damaged reputation. It's not that she doesn't trust you or Ash with important information, but if the Iris fainting incident was any proof, things get out if we're too liberal with it. I know Leaf can come off as insensitive, but she gets made out to be the bad guy way too much."

"Mass hysteria?" Misty questioned.

"Houndoom had Virus X." Gary paused immediately after saying this, and he let out a strange, exasperated chuckle. "See what I mean by things getting out?"

Misty's eyes widened, and she sputtered, "V-Virus X? That's..."

"I'm not saying anything more." Gary sat down, pulling out his cell phone. "You'll find out soon enough."

* * *

Clemont knew he wasn't a particularly athletic or even strong person, but this was just embarrassing. His and Bonnie's luggage wasn't even particularly large—smaller than Serena's, for sure—but he nevertheless struggled to carry their bags outside the center, toward the parking lot where their ride would be.

"Need some help with that?" Kenny offered, coming up beside the blond.

"No, I'll be okay," Clemont panted, "but thanks anyway."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

Kenny still looked unconvinced, but he shrugged and broke stride with Clemont, moving ahead. Clemont let out a sigh of relief and paused to drop the bags and take a quick breather. He leaned against the brick wall outside the center, massaging his shoulders. To his left, he heard some rustling among a couple of trash cans, and he looked that way, half-expecting a couple Trubbish to appear—he'd seen a couple lingering in alleyways and other urban spots since they arrived in Unova—but instead, he saw a small, feline Pokémon emerge from behind one of the rusting cans.

"Huh?" He adjusted his glasses. "A Purrloin?"

The Purrloin whipped its head around when it heard him speak, and it immediately bristled, letting out a hiss.

"H-Hey!" Clemont waved his hands at the creature. "I wasn't trying to scare you! Sorry."

The Purrloin didn't scamper off like he had expected, though. Instead, it turned on him, letting out another hiss. Clemont drew back in surprise, realizing it was preparing to pounce—to attack him.

"Hang on, I don't want to-" Clemont reached for the top pocket of his suitcase, knowing his Pokémon were inside, but before he could finish his sentence, the Purrloin leapt at him. He jumped out of the way and stumbled back, his clumsiness causing him to fall onto the pavement. When his hand ripped out of the suitcase, several of his Pokéballs fell out and rolled across the blacktop. Clemont scurried to grab the one containing Luxray.

Purrloin wasn't waiting. It readied itself to pounce again—but it couldn't make it as far.

"Blaziken, use Fire Spin!"

Purrloin was forced onto its hind legs as a ring of fire suddenly surrounded it, preventing it from moving. May skidded onto the scene, after her Blaziken. She blinked when she saw what Pokémon opposed them.

"A Purrloin? I thought it might be something bigger..." She looked toward Clemont. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah!" Clemont jumped up, gathering his Pokéballs. "You normally don't see Purrloin this aggressive, I think..."

While they weren't paying attention, Purrloin made an unexpected leap over the ring of flames, singeing its fur and possibly giving itself a burn. May noticed the moved almost immediately and called out, "Blaziken, quick, use Blaze Kick!"

Just as the Purrloin had jumped up to sink its teeth into Blaziken's arm, the Fire-type raised his leg and kicked the smaller Pokémon square in the chest. He was thrown back into the trash can, which then fell over, causing much of its contents to spilled out. A couple tense seconds passed before the Purrloin crawled out, baring its tiny teeth and claws once again.

"Still? He, or she, really is persistent!" May put her hands on her hips. "Okay then, let's-"

"Aggron, use Stone Edge!" Several sharpened stones burst from beneath the pavement and crossed at the top, entrapping the Purrloin.

"Paul!" Reggie looked and sounded surprised; the attack seemed excessive.

"Paul?" May brought her hands together, near her chest; her eyes were wide. "Are you- I haven't seen you in a while!"

He didn't respond but strode toward her and Clemont.

"You should be grateful," Paul told Clemont in almost chastising tone. "You're lucky May came and saved you from that Purrloin getting a grip on your arm with its teeth." He then turned an eye toward May. "And you, you're lucky your Blaziken didn't get bitten, either. Don't use physical moves with Pokémon like that again."

"Pokémon like that?" May appeared confused. "What do you mean?"

"Didn't you notice the patch of hair that had fallen out, and that it had purple spots on its skin?" Paul pressed.

"Well, no, the fur is purple so it would kind of blend in..." May admitted.

"What happened out here?" Misty ran out with Gary in tow. She added, "We heard a commotion." She stopped, looking at the spires of pavement and brown rock in bemusement. Gary held his cell phone in his hand; a couple of his fingers were pressed over the receiver.

"I've trapped a Purrloin in there," Paul said plainly, pointing to the spires. His eyes connected with Gary's. "I didn't get a close look, but it might be infected."

"Infected?" May inquired, doing a double-take between both him and Gary. No one answered her, and Gary let out a shaky breath before lifting his phone to his ear again.

"Leaf, I'm going to have to call you back," he said.

* * *

"We haven't heard anything from either Leaf or Gary in a while," Iris mused, tapping her fingers impatiently against her arm. Her head was lolled to the side, her eyes turned toward the window. "I'm thinking about going down to the Pokémon Center to check things out. It's within walking distance."

"I'm sure it's nothing," Trip dismissed. "There's a lot of paperwork that goes into this kind of thing."

"I _hate_ being on the sidelines, though," Iris near-hissed, though her remark was directed to no one in particular.

A ringtone sounded; both Georgia and Trip's gazes immediately went to Iris.

"Don't look at me." Iris scowled. "That's Cilan's, not mine."

Cilan, meanwhile, reached into his back pocket and plucked out his device.

"Hello, you're speaking with Cilan Griffith," he said after picking up.

"_Two things—_" Paul didn't bother with any greeting. "_—one, Houndoom is dead; two, May saved one of Ash's Kalosian friends from a rabid Purrloin, and I think it might be your student's._"

"Karina's Purrloin?" Cilan breathed in, and his companions looked equally surprised.

"_I want you to come down to the Pokémon Center and confirm it's hers,_" Paul went on.

"I'm not particularly familiar with that Purrloin," Cilan admitted. "It was always Burgundy who worked with it, not I."

"_Then get her down here to confirm it_." And with that, Paul hung up, and the line went dead.

_**June 24th, 2009. Early Evening. Mistralton City.**_

Leaf could easily name the lowest points of her life—her adoptive parents' funerals, the night Domino nearly murdered her, the hours she spent crying in front of Lance as Ash laid in the Opelucid City Hopsital ICU with a traumatic brain injury—and today would likely be added to her list.

Certainly, she had felt disheartened before. She had experienced failures and other shortcomings, but they had never made her as miserable as she felt right then. Perhaps it was because there was moment that morning when it seemed things were finally starting to look up, when it seemed luck was finally on their side. However, their god, whoever it was, was decidedly cruel to her that day, sweeping the hope up from under her feet, starting with the news that Houndoom had died. She had been at the local library, waiting for Gary to email her the permissions forms so she could print them and take them to Summer, when he called.

An unusually chilly breeze cut past her cheek as she stared blankly at the dimming parking lot before her. The stone blocks on which she sat were cool and rigid and uncomfortable, but she couldn't bring herself to move elsewhere.

Her phone rang. She checked the ID and picked it up.

"Hi Gary," she said flatly.

"_Hey,_" he greeted quickly. "_Sorry I had to cut our conversation short. Some things have happened since then, though, and-_"

"-Gary, she's dead," Leaf said quietly, interrupting him.

"_What?_" Shock was evident in his voice, though it also lowered a couple decibles.

"Summer's dead," Leaf repeated, her voice cracking. "I came to the hospital to tell her about Houndoom, but it was too late."

"_What happened?_"

"Something with her heart—Arceus, it only happened twenty or thirty minutes after I left to go to the library." Leaf's voice progressively became more warbled the more upset she became. "Her parents weren't even here."

"_Are they there now?_" Gary asked.

"Yeah," Leaf answered shortly. "Her mother was screaming in the lobby earlier. I haven't spoken with them, and I'm not sure I should."

"_Where are you?_"

"Sitting outside. I've been meaning to get in my car and leave, but I'm too emotionally compromised to operate heavy machinery." She drew an arm around herself. "Gary, I... I don't know what to do. I don't know what we can do. Both Summer and Houndoom-"

"_-There's hope, Leaf._"

"There's _not_ hope, not for Summer," Leaf unexpectedly snapped.

"_Let me finish._" Gary tried to remain calm, but he sounded frustrated. "_Don't talk like that. Don't take a defeatist attitude; I know you're better than that. There are still sixteen people alive, including Karina, and they're counting on us. We think we have Karina's Purrloin._"

"Her Purrloin?"

"_Cilan and Burgundy are coming here to confirm it. If they do, then we'll ask Karina for permission to use her Purrloin in our research._"

Leaf leaned her head back, letting out a long breath. She wasn't quiet sure on whose side Arceus was now.

"Okay," she said, "but there's one other thing."

"_What is it?_"

Leaf looked forward again.

"We need to look more into SAMPLe."

_**June 24th, 2009. Early Evening. Opelucid City.**_

They didn't notice the faint tint of purple in Purrloin's scleras until they got close. They had successfully (and safely) moved Purrloin to a cage within the Pokémon Center, where it could receive treatment for its burns. Yet, it wouldn't let either Nurse Joy get close, and they left to retrieve some sleep aids. In the meantime, the group was free to examine the Purrloin from a distance.

The Pokémon coiled in the back corner of the cage, letting out another of many hisses they'd heard since its capture. Burgundy's hands were clasped together as she eyed the creature carefully; she and Cilan stood at the forefront of the group

"I think it's nervous with all of us here," Zoey remarked. "Maybe some of us should leave."

"Yeah, let's-" Barry wasn't able to finish before Purrloin yowled and headbutted the cage, rattling the whole thing. Burgundy let out a gasp and stumbled back, nearly running into Cilan when she did. Several others backed away, too, appalled by the behavior. For some, this was the first time they had seen a Pokémon act this way; for others, it was a reoccurring experience. Dawn nervously wrung her hands together and looked away.

"So?" Paul inquired, giving Burgundy only a short moment to recover.

"I... I think it's Karina's," she said.

"You think?" Paul questioned.

"It is," Burgundy amended, speaking more firmly. "It is hers."

"And you?" Paul turned an eye toward Cilan, who averted his gaze.

"I trust Burgundy's judgment," he said. He was guarded; his arms were folded and drawn close to his chest. Iris cast him a quick, concerned glance, and she reached out to touch the back of his arm before looking back at the Purrloin.

"Well, then the next step is to get into contact with Karina and pass permission forms onto her," Gary said.

"Karina's parents left me their number, so that shouldn't be too difficult," Cilan said.

Silence fell among the group. Purrloin drew back into the shadow of its cage again, letting out a low growl.

"Gary, what's going on?" Dawn appealed to him after a while. She and Paul's were standing at an arm's length, but they hadn't spoken, let alone done much to acknowledge each other; for her, she didn't know what to say, what to do. For him—she could only guess why he wouldn't look her in the eye, but she had several theories, and one of them involved Reggie's presence. She added, "Please don't leave us in the dark."

"I'll tell you what's happening," Paul began suddenly, catching Dawn—and others—by surprise. "Karina's Purrloin has the virus Gary studied in his thesis."

Paul's reveal earned him a wary glance from Gary, but Paul ignored it. Iris, meanwhile, looked at the Sinnoh Champion with wide eyes; she realized it was a good thing Leaf was miles away then.

"Wait, that's..." Ritchie paused, wracking his memory. "... Virus X? The things that made all those Lileep stronger and more aggressive? ... Oh Mew, and someone kidnapped one of those Lileep not too long ago." Ritchie looked at Trip to confirm, and he nodded in response.

"We think someone might be experimenting with it, purposefully putting it in Pokémon, but it's gotten out of hand," Paul went on. "Professor Oak and Bill Blaustein are going to be here Saturday. They were supposed to help us study Houndoom, but now it's looking like we need this Purrloin."

"I can't believe you've been keeping this from us," Drew breathed, almost sounding disgusted.

"Leaf didn't want to scare you, in particular, Drew." Cilan was less defending Leaf than simply stating a fact.

"I don't know if scared is the right word, but I am a little—no, a lot—concerned," Drew retorted. "The CIU is supposed to be hosting a contest in Nimbasa Town in less than a month. I don't want to do that if there's some outbreak of an apocalyptic virus that turns Pokémon into _that_."

He gestured toward Purrloin, and the motion ignited something in the scabrous Pokémon. Its hiss rose into a scream, and its claws came slashing outside the bars. Drew was far away enough that it could not reach him, and he hardly flinched at the outburst.

Serena drew further back, her hand going to her mouth; Bonnie held onto her wrist.

"That's exactly why she didn't want you to know. She doesn't want you to cancel." Paul spoke again after the fit ended, flicking his gaze toward Drew once more.

"Why not?"

"Look, Drew, just give it some time. Oak and Bill will be here soon, and we're going to issue a public service announcement about the virus once we have everything together," Paul said gruffly. "Make your judgment then."

May frowned and looked up at her boyfriend; she could tell he was still upset.

"You know we can't back out of our contract with Don George so easily," she reminded him. "We might as well keep going until we know we can't anymore."

Drew sucked in his breath but nodded, turning away. He was done with the conversation.

"Well... what can we do to help?" Ash asked, stepping forward.

"Nothing; there's nothing you can do," Paul said bluntly, "except stay quiet about it. I know you all have a tendency to gossip, but don't let this one slip." His eyes connected with Dawn for the first time since the stood in that room together, and she shrunk. He quickly broke the gaze and strode away, back toward the main lobby.

"Paul!" Reggie hurried after him.

When they were gone, Kenny looked back toward Drew, who was still turned toward the wall, and asked, "Why did he tell us everything?"

"He's retaliating against Leaf," Iris answered shortly, drawing a few surprised gazes.

"Why?" Barry asked.

"I think because-" She stopped short, realizing that if she answered, she would be effectively proving the point Paul was trying to make. "Can't say. I've done it, too, though. I guess it's not the most mature thing in the world."

Iris suddenly looked depressed as she brushed some loose hair behind her ear and headed toward the lobby, too. Cilan frowned and soon followed. Burgundy blinked and glanced behind her, at Georgia, who shrugged in response.

May perked up with realization and checked her phone.

"Oh no, Ash, it's almost 5:30," she said worriedly. "Your plane leaves in just a couple minutes."

"It's okay; another one can be scheduled," Misty assured her. "We'll-

"-No, Misty," Ash began, cutting her off before she could continue. Misty went rigid before casting him a sideways glance. Ash sighed and scratched his nose, briefly lowering his head before looking back up at the Kalosian trio. "I'm sorry. I can't leave; I have to stay here. I can't leave this behind."

Misty looked away.

"... I understand," Serena said quietly. This response was definitely not expected by Ash or her companions, and it showed. She continued, "I don't want to leave either."

Bonnie inclined her head toward the older girl.

"Serena... ?" she inquired tepidly. Serena folded her arms.

"I don't buy that there's not something we can do. I know there is." She then looked directly at Clemont. "Isn't there?"

.

.


	17. XVI: In Which Cynthia Edges Her Way In

.

.

.

Chapter XVI: In Which Cynthia Edges Her Way In

.

.

_**June 25th, 2009. Early Morning. Opelucid City.**_

Gary's voice initially seemed distant when reality came pouring in that morning. Leaf groaned and pressed her hands to her face; she felt like she hadn't slept much. She turned her head toward the clock on the nightstand and blinked a couple times, trying to process the time. It was barely past 5 a.m. The blue of night still lingered outside her window, though the sun was fast approaching.

"Yeah, yeah..." she heard Gary mumble. Leaf could see him sitting on the counter of the bathroom sink through the cracked-open door. "I'll make sure someone picks you up. What time are you supposed to arrive? ... Okay. Thanks. It means a lot."

He was evidently talking on the phone**—**or _had_ evidently been talking on the phone, because he soon hung up and pushed the door open again. He raised his eyebrows when he realized Leaf was awake, watching him with a tired half-lidded gaze.

"Who were you talking to?" she groggily asked.

"My grandfather," Gary answered conservatively; noisiness would ruin the sleepy spell Leaf was under, and Iris and Cilan, he imagined, were still in bed. "He's coming."

"Coming?"

"I told him about Houndoom, but that we now had Purrloin, and that we would be getting the green light sooner than expected," he elaborated. "He found an earlier flight; Tracey and Daisy are going to take care of the Pokémon at the lab. I haven't talked to Bill yet, but his schedule is less flexible, so I imagine he'll still be coming out on the 27th as originally planned."

"Karina hasn't signed the forms yet, has she?"

"Cilan thinks it's a for-sure thing," Gary said. "He talked to her parents last night. He's going to meet with her today."

"Mm..." Leaf cast her arm over her eyes. She stayed motionless for a long moment before trying to sit up—but Gary stopped her, easing her back to the mattress.

"Hey, go back to sleep, okay?" he said gently. "It's too early for you to be stressing out."

"I could say the same for you," Leaf threw back.

"Just sleep for a couple more hours at least, all right?" Gary now sat on the edge of the bed.

Leaf pursed her lips.

"And you?" she asked.

It took Gary a moment to figure out what she meant, but when he did, he let on a tired smile. He crawled back onto the bed, and Leaf shifted over to give him more room. She let out a placated sigh and closed her eyes as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his lips against an exposed area on the back of her neck. Yet, when she opened her eyes again, her pupils were hazy, and her irises were dull—signs of her weariness.

"If we can just survive this..." Leaf said quietly, her voice soon tapering off into the stillness of morning.

* * *

It was 11 a.m. Kanto time. At that very moment, Ash should have been walking through a long, empty tunnel, toward the screams of an exuberant crowd, with Pikachu faithfully stationed on shoulder. They would exchange one last look of determination and bump fists before stepping into view, where he and his Pokémon would have the match of their lives. He would feel the adrenaline pumping in his veins and the anticipation pooling in his stomach, making him feel both dizzy and just a tiny bit nauseous.

None of those things were happening, though—except for perhaps the nausea.

"_... You're not coming home?_" The disappointment in Delia's face and voice were evident, and it caused Ash to wince. Pikachu folded his ears and glanced up sadly at his trainer.

"Not yet," Ash said. "There are some more things going on here, and I want to stick around."

"_Does Leaf want you to help her more?_" Delia asked.

"Er... not exactly..."

"_Don't go sticking your nose where it doesn't belong, young man_," she warned.

"I know, I know," Ash said hurriedly. "It's complicated, though."

"_Does this have anything to do with Professor Oak leaving early this morning?_"

"Hm?" Ash intoned inquisitively.

"_Tracey and Daisy are here in Pallet Town,_" Delia elaborated. "_I went to the lab to bring Professor Oak some breakfast—you know, he doesn't always cook for himself—but he had left, apparently last-minute on a flight to Unova. I don't know the details, but it was for some research project._"

"... Could be," Ash mused. He was smart enough to put two and two together: Professor Oak was coming to see Purrloin, but Ash decided it was better he not share that information, lest his mother get wound up in worry about Virus X. He added, "Anyway, I ought to be going. I haven't had breakfast yet."

"_Okay._" Delia nodded. "_Make sure to get some berries with your meal, okay? It's good for you. And no, Pecha pancakes don't count._"

"Will do, Mom," Ash chuckled. "Love you. I'll talk to you later."

"_Love you too, sweetie. Stay safe._"

The screen went dark, and Ash let out a long, tired breath as he put the phone back on its hook. He let Pikachu climb back up his arm and safely nestle on his shoulder before opening up the privacy curtain to the phone booth and stepping outside—where he so happened to run into Serena.

"Hey!" Serena greeted, sounding mildly surprised. "I've been looking for you."

"For me?"

"Clemont searched on his phone and found a construction supplies store in Opelucid, and we're headed that way," Serena went on. "Want to come? We'll stop by somewhere to grab some food."

"Uh... sure," Ash answered. "Who's we?"

"Um—" Serena pressed a finger to her chin, thinking. "—me, Clemont, Bonnie, Ritchie, and you."

"No Misty?"

"We haven't seen Misty all morning," Serena replied. "I think she went down to the gym."

Ash frowned.

"Right..."

Serena inclined her head, asking, "Is... everything all right between you two?"

"Yeah, it's fine." Ash brushed the question off. "Food, though? Where are we going?"

Serena let on an exasperated smile.

"We'll let you pick," she suggested. "How does that sound?"

* * *

It had been a while since Reggie and Paul lived under the same roof. After Paul turned 10 and started traveling, he mostly camped out and stayed in Pokémon Centers, only coming home occasionally for holidays or when he needed (or wanted) to see his brother. After Reggie married Maylene, though, Paul's visits became more sparse, especially when he leased his own apartment.

Although he wouldn't admit it, the distance from his brother was, at times, lonesome. But now, he was remembering some of why he ultimately preferred living separately.

"Hey." Reggie poked his younger brother's midsection, a sensitive area. Paul arched his back and turned away.

"Leave me alone," he mumbled. "It's too early for this."

"It's past 8 a.m."

"Exactly."

Reggie frowned. There was a time in Paul's life when 8 a.m. was considered late in the morning; more preferable hours included 6 a.m., perhaps 7 a.m. if he wanted to sleep in.

"You have someone on the phone for you." Reggie held a cell phone out toward Paul, reaching over the wall of his back to dangle the device in front of his face.

"Tell them to call back later."

"It's Cedar."

Paul cast a disdainful glance over his shoulder and saw his brother's tired, smiling expression. Paul grumbled to himself before sitting up, brushing his fingers through his hair, and snatching the phone away from Reggie.

"Hello, Cedar," Paul greeted, pressing the device to his ear. Reggie smile widened, just a tiny bit, as he leaned against one of the bedposts. As always, Paul's tone softened up while speaking with his niece, despite the obvious irritation he currently harbored toward his sibling.

"_Hi._" The 3-year-old's small voice patched through.

"Why did you want to talk to me?"

"_My dad said you were sad._"

Paul paused, turning a hard gaze toward Reggie. Reggie could only assume what his daughter was saying, but he grinned sheepishly and shrugged.

"... I am, but I'll be okay." That was the hard thing about talking with children versus adults, for Paul. Adults were less direct, and it was easier for him to brush off their half-hearted, socially conditioned questions of, "How are you doing?" Being disingenuous with children felt like the worse sin, because there was nothing ingenuine about them.

"_I drew you pictures to make you feel better._"

"I'll have to look at them next time I'm in Veilstone City."

"_My mom said she could take pictures of them on her phone and send them to you._"

"... That would work, too," Paul admitted. He couldn't remember Cedar drawing for him before, though he supposed she was only now just at the age where crayons were artistic tools rather than something to chew on.

"_Okay._"

"Okay," Paul repeated.

"_I love you._"

Paul sat motionless for a while, saying nothing. Reggie tilted his head, watching his younger brother carefully.

"Take care of yourself, all right?" Paul finally said. "I'm going to give the phone back to your father." He thrusted the device back to Reggie, who accepted it with a smile.

"Hi Cedar," Reggie said cheerfully. "Thank you for that. ... I love you, too. Tell your mother I'll talk to her later." When he hung up, he looked back toward Paul said, "So? Wasn't that nice?"

"If I didn't know Cedar couldn't read, I'd say you wrote her a script," Paul grumbled. He threw his sheets off of him and rose up, stretching.

"Are you going to the Opelucid Gym?" Reggie asked.

"No," Paul answered shortly. "I've been banned until further notice. Besides, if I went, Leaf would not only be mad at me for being there, she'd be mad because of what happened last night. I'm half-expecting her to angrily show up on my doorstep tonight."

"Banned?" Reggie raised his eyebrows. Paul frowned, knowing there was no good way to answer—at least, no way to answer without divulging personal matters he didn't want to give to his brother. Like that Leaf had _wanted_ him to call Reggie.

"Never mind," Paul hastily dismissed. Reggie frowned, too, but shrugged it off.

"Well, in that case, you ought to come to the grocery store with me," Reggie suggested.

"Why?"

"Paul, you practically have no food in this apartment, and misery has no nutritional value or calories," Reggie said bluntly. "You need to eat."

"Fine." Paul went to his dresser and, opening it, pulled a new shirt. "... I thought I was supposed to be seeing Caitlin."

"Cynthia actually talked to me about that this morning," Reggie said. "Caitlin knows, and she's traveling from Undella Town to be here. She should arrive Saturday."

"Great," Paul mumbled. "Is Cynthia going to leave then?"

"I doubt it," Reggie said. "She had other things she wanted to do in Unova. You were the intrinsic motivation for coming here, but she knows you want your space."

"What other things?"

"Beats me." Reggie shrugged. "But if I had to guess, I'd say she wants to have a hand in the G-Men's investigation of that virus you were talking about yesterday."

* * *

Georgia did a quick, visual headcount when she walked into Iris's office that morning: Iris, Trip, Wallace, Gary, and Misty. No Leaf, which was a surprise, but perhaps also a relief. After last night, she suspected the mood of the room would be different with versus without her.

"Morning," Georgia greeted, dropping her bag beside her as she sat on the lounge. She then turned toward Gary, asking, "What are you doing here? I would've thought you'd be trying to get buddy-buddy with that Purrloin by now."

"Cilan hasn't taken the permission forms to Karina, yet," Gary answered shortly. "So I'm sitting on my hands until then."

"Right, right..." Georgia mumbled. "Have I missed anything big?"

"No, not since last night," Trip answered. He then held out a printed copy of a web page out to her. "There is this, though."

"What is it?" Georgia asked.

"It's an opinion piece for The Unovan Post, the biggest news publication based in Unova," Trip replied. "Read it."

Georgia looked suspicious, but accepted the sheet of paper and began to scan the page:

**Georgia Hamilton unusual but good pick for Unova Elite Four**

_Verena Rujel, OPINION_

Iris Ajagara can breathe easy now.

After five weeks with a glaring hole in her Elite Four, the space left  
empty by Grimsley Astor has finally been filled.

The position was originally offered to the esteemed Electric-type  
specialist and Nimbasa City Gym Leader Elesa Schjeldal only days  
after Astor's resignation, but Schjeldal declined. What followed was  
a long period of silence from the Unova Champion office regrading  
who would take Astor's place.

Ajagara staying mum on the issue can be attributed to several  
possibilities: For one, she and her husband of two years, Cilan  
Griffith, discovered they are expecting their first child.

With the May assassination attempt on Ajagara's life, however, the  
more likely scenario is that she was struggling to fill the position,  
with Schjedal's refusal preceding a string of other, unpublicized  
rejections. It's not difficult to conjecture that many good candidates  
for the position would be hesitant to sign on with a Champion  
whose reputation is shaky at best.

This may explain the late nomination for the now-former Iccirus City  
Gym Leader Georgia Hamilton. Hamilton, on paper, was still a  
a rookie gym leader prior to accepting her new role as a member  
the Unova Elite Four. She took over the Iccirus City Gym in mid-2006  
after its previous owner, Brycen Tobita, retired.

Make no mistake, however: Just because Hamilton wasn't Ajagara's  
first choice (or perhaps even her second or third) doesn't mean she  
isn't good for the job. In fact, I would venture to say Ajagara's  
struggles may pay off for the better, and that Hamilton is the _best_  
person for the job.

Despite Hamilton's lack of experience, she and her inherited gym  
have fostered a reputation of having one of the most difficult badges  
to earn in Unova. For the past three years, the Iccirus City Gym has  
not been a friendly place for any beginning trainer.

It's easy to see, then, why Ajagara was ultimately drawn to Hamilton  
as her pick. Power trumps experience when it comes to the Elite Four.  
After all, it was only four years ago the young Leaf Greene emerged  
as a force to be reckoned with after dominating both the Sinnoh and  
Kanto Battle Frontiers, earning her a spot on the Indigo Elite Four  
and, eventually, Lance Grayson's title.

Moreover, Hamilton has already proven to be a break in tradition,  
which is consistent with Ajagara's tenure thus far. Rather than  
picking a single type in which to specialize, Hamilton declared her  
specialty "Dragon Busting," which incorporates the use of Pokémon  
considered strong against Dragon-types, including Ice-, Steel-, and  
Fairy-types.

Ironic, and interesting, considering Ajagara's specialty is Dragons.

Of course, Hamilton is not the first Elite Four member to declare an  
unusual specialty; Greene herself specialized in a female-only team  
prior to taking the Champion seat. Nevertheless, the change is as  
refreshing now as it was then.

Overall, despite the uncertainty leading up to her nomination,  
Hamilton, I believe, will prove to be an excellent addition to the  
Unova Elite Four, and I will be looking forward to her debut at the  
2009 Vertress Conference in September, given the moratorium on  
league activity ends before then.

"Well, it makes me look good, which I like," Georgia remarked when she finished reading. She looked up at Iris when she added, "It makes you just look lucky, though."

Iris shrugged in response.

"Leaf said there would be a price to pay if I kept you," she said. "She was right, but I think the benefits outweigh the costs."

"Checks and balances." Everyone's eyes turned toward the door, through which Leaf sashayed inside before claiming a seat beside Georgia. There were noticeably dark circles under her eyes. "I agree. I've decided I like you."

"Thanks, that means minimally to me," Georgia replied wryly. "You seem to be in a better mood than I would have expected."

"I'm trying not to dwell on Summer, but thanks for bringing it up," Leaf said.

"Well, more than Summer..."

"I actually haven't told her, yet," Gary suddenly interrupted.

"Told me what?" Leaf perked up in alarm. When no one initially responded, she threw her head back and groaned, "Oh geez. What happened?" She added in a far more pleading tone, "Please, _please_ don't tell me that there's another kid whose died."

"No, but," Gary began carefully, "last night, when we were looking at Purrloin, Paul told everyone about the virus."

Leaf stared at him silently, and everyone else in the room waited, watching her with baited breath.

"... All right," she finally said. Another spell of silence followed, as confusion crossed the expressions of her companions. Leaf, annoyed, added, "Well, don't look so surprised."

"I think we were preparing for you to have a more angry reaction," Trip admitted.

"I'm too tired to be angry," Leaf said honestly. "Samuel Oak is coming today, three days earlier than we anticipated. That hopefully means we'll be able to issue our public service announcement earlier than anticipated, too, before anyone has the chance to spill." She paused before asking, "Was Drew there? What was his reaction?"

"The green-haired one who isn't Cilan?" Georgia asked.

"That's him," Leaf affirmed.

"He was pretty mad," Georgia said.

"Of course he was," Leaf sighed. She leaned back and, with her hands, freed some of the hair was was stuck in her collar. "Well, that ought to be fun."

"There's something else," Misty unexpectedly interjected.

"More bad news?" Leaf sounded exasperated.

"Ash and his Kalosian friends missed their flight, and they're intent upon staying," Misty said.

"Awesome." Leaf sighed before adding, "Well, given the situation, it's for the better."

"For the better?" Wallace inquired.

"If Paul wants to be a child and tell everyone on the playground his friends' secrets in order to exact his revenge upon me, fine. I hardly blame him for wanting to piss me off, and I _would_ be mad if I weren't drained of my emotions right now." She continued, "Now that Ash and company know about the virus, I would rather they be here then go to other regions and unwittingly mention it. I'm not too worried about the CIU. They're connected to us, and it's in their best interest to stay quiet."

"That's fair," Gary conceded.

"It does mean I want you, Misty, back with Ash's group to make sure they're not accidentally leaking anything," Leaf said, turning back toward the redhead.

"What?" Misty looked and sounded incredulous.

"Hey, you now have your full disclosure, and you wanted to help the case," Leaf defended. "I'm sure you now understand why I was a stickler about keeping the reasons behind the investigation under tight lock and key, and you can help by making sure this doesn't reach the media before we reach the podium. I want to keep as much control over this as we can."

"... Yeah, I understand," Misty admitted.

"Then what's the problem?"

"I think Ash might be mad at me," Misty said.

"It's Ash; he'll get over it in two days. Next order of business—" Leaf turned to face Iris, who straightened up in response. "—Iris, do you still have that SAMPLe representative's card?"

"Elijah's?" Iris inquired.

"Yes, him."

"Somewhere, I do," Iris replied. "Why?"

"Find it, and call him," Leaf instructed. "We need to make an appointment to see SAMPLe's facilities."

* * *

"It looks like we're out of time for class today," Cilan said tacitly after checking the watching. "Please turn in your quick writes to Ms. Myers as you exit the room. There's no assigned reading for the weekend, but please review chapter 3 of Oak's text as needed. We'll be learning more about how you can observe the battles styles of trainers on Tuesday."

As the students began gathering their items and leaving, Cilan returned to his computer, shutting it down and putting away his own lecture materials. No students lingered behind for questions, so the classroom was quickly emptied out that day. Burgundy straightened out the stack of papers she received and headed toward Cilan.

"Thank you," he said, receiving the stack and placing them into a yellow folder. He would need to read over the response during the weekend.

"Have you spoken with Karina yet?" Burgundy had been waiting to ask the question through the entirety of class, and she didn't miss a beat.

"Her parents, yes; Karina, no," Cilan answered, shaking his head. "I'm headed that way now, though."

"To Lacunosa?" Burgundy inquired.

"No, actually," Cilan replied. "You won't believe where she is."

"Where?"

"The Opelucid Hospital," Cilan said. "Lacunosa Town doesn't have a hospital, so they came down here. She was admitted yesterday."

"Really?" Burgundy didn't know how Cilan could say this so calmly. The news Karina was in the hospital didn't sit with her well.

"Would you like to come with me?" Cilan offered.

"Could I?" Burgundy wrung her hands together.

"Of course." Cilan put away his folder and retrieved his keys. "The permission forms are in my office. After we get them, I can drive us there."

* * *

"Okay so..." Clemont dropped to his knees as he unfurled a large sheet of paper—or rather, several pieces of the complimentary Pokémon Center stock taped together with tape—and laid it on the ground. "... This is my modified plan. I think the design and mechanics are pretty solid, but I might have to do some tweaking to get it right after we start building."

Clemont's companions leaned over his shoulder to get a better look at his plan: a six-faced cage with several small pipes running across the top, as well as several other small compartments. Pikachu sat on the ground, arms folded, as he also examined the disjointed sheets of paper. Scattered around him were the various materials that would go into making Clemont's messy drawings a reality.

"'Modified' plan?" Ritchie inquired, casting Clemont a quick glance.

"Well, uh..." Clemont adjusted his glasses. "I had originally designed this with a Pokémon the size of Houndoom in mind, but now that he's... Anyway, I modified it to fit a Purrloin. It was pretty easy; I just had to change some of the dimensions and reconsider a few other things."

"All right." Serena straightened up, placing her hands on her hips. "So what's the first thing we need to do?"

"Make the frame; that's why we got those metal pieces cut." Clemont pointed to a nearby pile of twelve rods of metal. "I'm not great at welding, but a Fire-type ought to help!"

"I can lend you my Delphox," Serena offered. "But shouldn't we move this outside if we're going to be working with fire? I don't think Nurse Joy would like it if we incinerated everything in this room."

"Oh, definitely!" Clemont quickly nodded. "Let me just..." He folded up his plans again and stood, indicating to Ritchie and Ash that they should take the metal rods. The two split the pile—six and six—before following Clemont outside the room, with Serena and Bonnie not far behind. Pikachu jumped up and followed as well, climbing up Ash's back until he was back on the trainer's shoulder.

"By the way..." Serena began cautiously as they headed for the stairs leading to the first floor. "Is there also some kind of permit we need to be doing work of this nature out in public? I don't know Unovan law..."

"Better to say you're sorry rather than ask for permission!" Bonnie said "Don't worry so much!"

"I doubt anyone will stop us, but if we were arrested, Trip would bail us out," Ritchie added.

"Or you could just call me."

Much to the group's surprise, they met Misty at the mouth of the stairs; she was headed in the opposite direction as them, presumably to find them in the rooms they'd left behind.

"Hey, Misty." Ash stepped forward. "How was your meeting with Leaf?"

The question threw Misty off, and she asked, "How did you know?"

"I think we kind of assumed." Ash shrugged.

"Right..." Misty trailed off. "Well, it went okay. Relatively, at least." She shook her head. "What are you guys doing?"

"We're building something Clemont designed for Pokémon like that Purrloin," Bonnie explained. "It's something that will hopefully prevent them from hurting themselves, and also let people like Gary work with them."

"Really? That sounds great," Misty commended. "Does Gary know about this?"

"Nah," Ash replied coolly. "We thought it might be better to wait until we've got it finished. That way, there's less of a chance of someone trying to stop us."

Misty was finding it difficult to know what to make of Ash's tone; she couldn't tell if his attitude was standoffish (toward her) or if he was presenting a more blunt (than usual) version of himself.

"Well, I'm not going to stop you," Misty said. "... Could I help, actually?"

"Uh, sure!" Clemont answered. "More help is always appreciated. We're heading outside now to put together this frame."

"Okay. Got it." She stepped aside and let the group move past her, yet she—and Ash—lingered behind them for a moment. Pikachu left, too, and caught up with Bonnie, in order to give his trainer and Misty a moment alone.

Clearing her throat, Misty folded her arms and awkwardly asked, "This isn't what you were expecting to do today, huh?"

Ash smiled crookedly.

"No, not exactly," he said. "But, you know how it goes with me."

"Everything happens for a reason," Misty added in agreement.

Her comment echoed past sentiments shared between them, and it soothed some of the unfriendly, yet unfamiliar suspicions he had started nurturing. He lowered his head and said, "Yeah. I know."

_**December 24th, 2007. Evening. Pallet Town.**_

"It looks like Pallet Town might have a White Christmas this year," Misty remarked, her hands on the open windowsill as she stared out into a dark, rural night that was speckled with star-like snowflakes. Ash stood beside her, watching her as she spoke, but flicking his gaze toward the sky when she finished.

"Yeah..." He trailed off. "It's been a while since we've had one. It usually gets kind of frosty, and maybe there's a little bit of snow on the ground, but not enough to build a snowman or anything like that. There was one year though, when I was a kid, when it snowed a bunch and I actually had a snowball fight with Leaf and Gary."

"Who won?"

"Leaf and Gary ganged up on me, and then Leaf turned on Gary."

Misty laughed.

"Sounds about right," she said. A brief silence fell, and Ash soon realized her eyes were no longer drawn to the scene outside, but rather to him.

"What?" he asked with a nervous chuckle.

"Nothing." She smiled but shook her head. "I've just missed you."

Ash let on a weak smile.

"I've missed you, too." He put his hands on the windowsill, too, and leaned his head back, stretching. "Been a crazy year, huh?"

"I'd still say 2002 was crazier," Misty teased.

"Well, yeah, obviously," Ash conceded. "But still, Leaf becoming Champion, you becoming an Elite Four member, Gary starting his Master's, me winning the Sinnoh Battle Frontier... Time sure flies, huh?"

"Mhm," Misty hummed in agreement. "The Elite Four title is still sinking in. I'm not sure I entirely believe it yet."

"Oh, I do!" Ash grinned. "You're one of the best trainers I know. Leaf would've been wrong to pick anyone other than you. I'd love to battle you soon, actually; we haven't battled in a while, and I'd like to see how how I measure up to a Water-type Master."

"Well, if the weather permits, I wouldn't mind a battle out in the fields tomorrow," Misty offered with a smirk.

"No, no, wait..." Ash held up a hand, ushering in a needed moment of quiet and giving him a moment to think. He stared out the window again for a long while before his lips twitched into another smile and he looked back at Misty. "You know, since coming back from Sinnoh, I've been wondering what I should do next—where I should go. I was thinking maybe Orre, or trying my hand at the new mini league out in the Decolore Islands... but no, I know what I want to do now."

"What's that?"

"I think..." He turned to face her fully. "I want to come back and compete in Kanto. The new season will begin in April, so I'll have some time to do some extra training and stuff, maybe visit some other friends in other regions... but just imagine, if I got eight new badges and then won the Indigo Conference, then I'd get to battle you and Leaf. Officially!"

"You'd only get to battle Leaf if you defeated me," she reminded him wryly, "and the three other Elite Four members."

"All the more reason to hit the ground training, huh?" Ash was undeterred. "What do you think?"

Misty was silent for a long moment. It was a more complex question than Ash probably realized it was, and her thoughts on the matter were equally complex—but with his big brown brimming with earnest, she felt obliged to reply with the optimism he (and she) wanted.

"I think you should," she said. "It would be a battle for the ages."

Ash's smile widened.

"My thoughts exactly."

Another spell of silence fell. Ash noticed one of Misty's hands was still on the windowsill, and he edged one of his toward it, until it laid on top of hers. This caught her attention, as he hoped it would, and when he held her gaze, he leaned in to kiss her—which she happily reciprocated.

"Hey—" The two immediately broke apart when Gary walked inside, but they weren't quick enough. "—Don't trying hiding it; I already saw." He coolly transitioned to a new subject, giving Ash and Misty little room to be embarrassed, and him less time to dwell on the accidental intrusion. "We're planning on putting in a movie. Any thoughts?"

"W-What are our options?" Misty asked, folding her hands under her arms.

Gary shrugged in response.

"Come check out the selection," he said as he left. Ash and Misty exchanged quick glances before she went ahead. Ash shut the window before following.

They found their friends—Ritchie, Gary, Leaf, Brock, Tracey, and Daisy—in the next room over, gathered near the sofa on the cushions or wrapped up in blankets. Ash's Pikachu and Sparky were conversing on an armchair nearby. Ash gave his Pokémon a friendly rub on the head before sitting among the others.

"So I heard we're watching a movie?" Ash asked.

"Yup," Ritchie answered, nodding. "We've narrowed it down to two Holiday classics: 'Simon the Shiny-Nosed Stantler'—" He held up one DVD case. "—or 'Frosty the Snover.'" He held up a second case.

"I'm fine with both," Misty tacitly replied.

"Same," Ash said. "I like both."

"We have time for two probably," Tracey said.

"All right, then we'll start with Simon." Ritchie pulled the DVD out of its case and crawled over to the television, inserting the disc into its player. Gary stood and went to switch off the lights before rejoining Leaf.

"Overheard something interesting," Gary told her in a low voice, as Brock began skipping through the commercials to reach the main menu.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Ash is going to compete in Kanto come April."

Leaf let out a breath and slowly turned her head, looking at Gary with an incredulous expression. Gary drew back in surprise; he wasn't expecting this reaction at all. She shifted in her seat, edging Gary's arm off her shoulders before standing up.

"Excuse me," she interjected politely. "I'm going to get a drink."

"Want us to wait?" Brock asked.

"No, it's fine," Leaf dismissed with a wave of her hand. "I've seen it a dozen times." She headed back into the kitchen, and Gary watched her leave with eyebrows furrowed. He waited a minute or so, letting the movie start, so that he could sneak away without the others noticing.

Leaf was in the middle of pouring herself a glass of peppermint liqueur, which they had brought earlier in the evening to enjoy post-dinner, when he found her. Her lips were pressed into a hard line, and her eyes were focused, though worried; he had seen her more stressed than this, but never over something that seemed so minor.

"Hey, what's the matter?" Gary asked.

"Nothing," Leaf hastily replied. "I just wanted another drink."

"Your timing isn't exactly subtle."

Leaf screwed the lid back onto the bottle and sighed.

"I wasn't expecting Ash to compete in Kanto this soon," she said quietly, picking up her drink.

"This soon?" Gary inquired. "Were you expecting him to?"

"Of course," Leaf said, turning and leaning against the counter, "and I wanted him to, eventually."

"Why?"

Leaf was silent as she considered her answered. She brought her glass to her lips, taking her first sip. The peppermint was strong, cool, but the alcohol burned on its way down her throat.

"... I need him," she finally answered. She glanced down at her drink, swishing it around in the glass, before inhaling sharply and speaking again. "No, you know what? It's going to be okay. Paul's inauguration is in February, and hopefully Iris won't be too far off. I'll have some time to devise a strategy. I just don't have a good view of the board yet."

_**June 25th, 2009. Afternoon. Unknown Location.**_

The melodies of the nearby Pidove were silenced by the more powerful—the more mournful—song of the bagpipes, as a train of people dressed in black followed a couple of pallbearers carrying a tiny, polished coffin. The graveyard where they stood was located in a small clearing of trees, and the few headstones there were overgrown by weeds and wildflowers. Perhaps humans would find this offensive, but N felt it was appropriate, especially in this graveyard that Ghetsis had dedicated solely to Pokémon. Nature always prevailed over human folly, after all; funerals were one of the few human ceremonies N appreciated, however.

N kept stride with Ghetsis, though his head hung low. Behind them followed Concordia and Anthea, whose heads were also respectfully bowed. Their hearts grieved for their younger, adoptive brother. N had buried his friends, other Pokémon before, but usually because the Pokémon had died of natural causes. This time, however, that which was lost was due to the cruelty of humans. At least, that was what Ghetsis had told them.

Elijah Colress was even further back in the line, and he was joined by another pair of sisters with whom he had become better acquainted since their stint in Hoenn: Annie and Oakley Hollingshead.

"Why are we entertaining this nonsense?" Oakley scoffed under her breath, speaking to Colress. "I know there are trainers who hold funerals for Pokémon, but never at this level of histrionics, and never for a Pokémon they didn't even own."

"N is a sensitive boy," Colress tacitly replied.

"A _boy_?" Annie dryly challenged.

"He has the heart of the child, at least," Colress amended. "He overheard one of Ghetsis's men delivering the news Anwir Seachlainn's Sandile had died days ago, and he became deeply upset. Ghetsis soothed him with reassurances that we would give Sandile a proper burial."

"I still don't understand why we accommodate to his ridiculous demands," Oakley grumbled.

"N will be the face of our movement," Colress calmly explained. "Ghetsis crafted him specifically for that. N's time is coming, and you will soon see why keeping him happy is valuable to us."

The pallbearers, two Plasma grunts Ghetsis had assigned to complete the job, placed the coffin next to the grave site, and returned to the crowd to stand among them. The bagpipes' song ended, and N moved forward to speak.

"We are gathered here today to honor the loss of a friend," he began solemnly, addressing the crowd. He then turned to the coffin, laying his hand atop it. "Sandile, I am sorry that we could not save you. I hope, at least, the last few weeks spent with us were happy ones. I'm sad we could never met, but I can feel the purity of your spirit still. I'll carry your memory in my heart forever."

His hand balled into a fist and he withdrew it, taking a moment to recompose himself. He looked back out toward the mourners.

"Would anyone else like to say any last words?" he asked, before inclining his head toward one person in particular. "Oakley?"

Oakley straightened up in surprise, her eyes going wide. She was prepared to shake her head no, but Colress gently elbowed her in the back, indicating she should speak.

"Uh..." She cleared her throat and stepped forward. "I didn't know this Pokémon. But, I'm sure he was great, and that he's in a better place now. ... That's it. That's all I can say."

"That was beautiful, Oakley. Thank you," N said gently, though genuinely. Oakley gave him an odd look and returned to Annie's side.

"Anyone else?" N asked.

"I have some words," Ghetsis said.

"Please." N stepped aside, allowing his father to join him at the front.

"Sandile, your loss will not be in vain," Ghetsis began. "Although we grieve now, we will take channel the emotions we feel into something greater—into our efforts to liberate all Pokémon. Your sacrifice will be considered invaluable, and Pokémon will thank you for generations to come. Let this serve as a reminder to all of us of the cruelty of trainers and the-"

Colress perked up when he felt his cell phone vibrate in his jacket. He plucked it out to check the caller ID—it was unknown—and excused himself from Annie and Oakley.

"Good afternoon," Colress greeted after picking up, moving away from the service. "This is Elijah speaking. How may I be of assistance to you?"

"_Elijah? This is Iris._"

Elijah drew in a sharp breath.

"Ah, Ms. Ajagara," he said, now smiling. "What a wonderful surprise. It's been far too long since we last spoke. Congratulations on the pregnancy. I had intended to send a celebratory gift earlier, but I was unfortunately caught up in some dreary business in Hoenn."

"_Thank... Thank you._"

"To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"_There are some things I want to talk to you about. Yesterday, a girl named Summer Morana... ah... she died._" There was no easy way to state it. "_Her Houndoom was sick, and he killed my friend Paul Rebolledo's Torterra. Leaf Greene spoke with Summer before she died, though, and she said her Houndoom was set to go to a rehabilitation facility—to SAMPLe. Houndoom escaped before he could make it there, though. Is this true?_"

"Indeed it is." Colress saw no sense in denying it.

"_Are there other Pokémon at SAMPLe? We've also been talking to a lot of other people who were attacked by that Houndoom, and they said their Pokémon turned violent afterward and were also taken in for rehabilitation._"

"SAMPLe takes in many Pokémon, Ms. Ajagara," he replied, "but what you describe does sound familiar."

"_Is it possible for me, and Leaf, to come down to SAMPLe's building and... look at those Pokémon?_" She added, almost as an afterthought, "_And, you know, to see how SAMPLe works?_"

"Ms. Ajagara, we would be honored to have you and Ms. Greene."

"_When can I come?_"

"I have several things I need to attend to before I could host you," Colress said. "Would this Saturday be acceptable to you? Perhaps around 1 p.m. We would happily treat you to lunch."

"_That would be great._"

"Our address to our location in Nimbasa City is on the business card I handed you. Do you still have it?" Colress asked.

"_Yes,_" Iris answered.

"Then I look forward to when I see you this coming Saturday."

"_Right. Thank you, again._"

"Take care of yourself, Ms. Ajagara."

When he ended the call, he rejoined the mourners, this time choosing to stand beside Ghetsis. He had ended his speech, and the coffin was now being lowered into the ground.

"I have some good news," Colress told him in a low voice. "Ms. Ajagara may be within our grasp again."

"Good news indeed," Ghetsis replied.

"We have some work to do, though."

"Work?" Ghetsis raised an eyebrow, casting him a sideways glance.

"She wants to see our facilities," Colress elaborated. "We need to prepare our Nimbasa front for her and Leaf Greene's arrival."

Ghetsis hummed and looked away.

"We'll see to it."

_**June 25th, 2009. Afternoon. Opelucid City.**_

"Saturday at 1 p.m., hm?" Leaf said, looking up the SAMPLe address on her computer. "Well, it doesn't look like it's a far drive."

"If that's the case, would you mind if I tagged along?" Gary asked.

"Whatever would make you happy, Garebear." Leaf pulled out a notepad and began to write down the directions to the location.

"Hey, Elijah is the same person who was asking about my research the night of my thesis," Gary reminded her. "You don't find that suspicious?"

"Of course I find it suspicious." Leaf tore the page out of the notebook. "We wouldn't be wasting our time looking into this if I didn't think something about it was funky."

"They won't be receptive if you head into that tour with guns blazing," Wallace gently warned. "Give them a chance to explain themselves. It's understandable that you might be suspicious, but also realize that there is a potential ally here."

"Don't worry," Leaf assured him. "We'll be civil. I did call the PIA office in Unova and request information on SAMPLe."

"The PIA?" Confusion crossed Trip's expression.

"The PIA does way more than just evaluate gym leaders and their gyms," Leaf explained. "They also inspect and gather data on contest halls, Pokémon Centers, research laboratories—anything connected to the league, which in this country, is essentially anything connected to Pokémon. The law requires rescues like SAMPLe register with the PIA, so they should have something to report, even if SAMPLe is a young start-up."

Georgia stifled a laugh.

"Wow, the league really _does_ control everything," she said wryly.

"Scary, isn't it?" Everyone in the room was caught off guard when Cynthia breezed through the door, wearing a friendly smile. "I think so, too."

"Cynthia, what a wonderful surprise to see you here in Unova." Wallace was the quickest to recover from his shock, and he rose up to meet her.

"Wallace!" Cynthia sounded equally warm as he greeted her with a polite kiss on the cheek. "It's been too long already. Is Winona in Opelucid, too?"

"I'm afraid you've just missed her," Wallace answered with a sad smile. "She returned to Hoenn yesterday."

"I see," Cynthia mused. "What a shame. Your wife's company is always a pleasure."

"I agree." Wallace nodded. "She never likes being away from the gym for too long, though."

"Cynthia..." Leaf appeared wary as she set her laptop aside and stood up. "I didn't know you were in Unova."

"I came yesterday, on business with which I'm sure you are well acquainted," Cynthia said. It took Leaf a moment to understand what the former Sinnoh Champion meant—but when she did, it showed her expression.

"Right." Leaf clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "That." She turned toward the map and board posted against the wall. "So how much of this do you know?"

"Quite a bit, actually," Cynthia said, moving to get a closer look. She raised a thoughtful hand to her chin as she examined the various news clippings tacked to the board. "Steven and Lance have been talking."

"I told Lance I would handle it on my own and not to worry," Leaf said.

"Lance is incapable of not staying out of issues of security." Cynthia dropped her hand. "Then again, I suppose I have the same issue. I would like to help."

Leaf briefly pursed her lips, thinking.

"Okay," she agreed. "Well, we do have some problems that might need your perspective."

"Certainly."

Leaf opened her mouth to explain, but stopped short, realizing this conversation was best had in privacy. She readjusted her approach.

"Have you eaten? Do you need anything to drink?" Leaf asked. "We could go somewhere to talk."

"That would be wonderful." Cynthia seemed to pick up on the hint.

They headed toward the door together, Cynthia heading out into the hallway first. Leaf paused in the doorway, throwing a glance back the others.

"I'll be back soon enough," she said, closing the door behind her. Cynthia calmly waited nearby.

"I'm guessing your problems pertain to Paul's current instability," Cynthia began as the started down the hallway together.

"Yes, actually," Leaf confirmed. "He told a lot of people about the virus last night, as a way to get back at me for..."

"For what?" Cynthia pressed.

"... For using some tough love to make him call Reggie and get help."

"Mm," Cynthia intoned. "I can see how that might be an issue."

"They're all people I'm not worried are going to run to the press, but a leak is still a concern, obviously," Leaf continued. "My bigger concern is that Drew found out, and he's supposedly very upset. I think he's edging closer to the idea of letting the CIU fold."

"I can also see how that might be an issue," Cynthia said, "but it's one where I can help."

"You can?" They stopped at the elevator.

Cynthia nodded and smiled before asking, "Do you have the CIU's website URL and phone number?"

* * *

Burgundy fiddled nervously with her visitor badge as she followed Cilan down the hallway, past several bustling nurses or doctors attending to their patients. They—she and Cilan—didn't say much as they moved; their conversations had been severely limited since their trip to Lacunosa Town several days earlier. She wondered if it was because he was upset with her—after all, she didn't know what might have been said to him while she wasn't there, about him revealing the secrets of Virus X to her—or if the situation had depressed him of his usual pleasantness.

"You ready?" Cilan asked when they reached the door, casting her a backward glance.

"I suppose." Burgundy nodded.

Cilan reached for the door handle, but hesitated, apparently changing his mind as he knocked. They were soon met by Joseph Valdis's large stature.

"Mr. Griffith; Ms. Myers," he politely acknowledged them. "Please come in."

He stepped aside, allowing both Cilan and Burgundy access to the room. Karina lied propped up against several large pillows, and she was hooked up to both fluids and a heart monitor.

"Hi," Karina greeted tiredly upon seeing them, setting her book aside. "I didn't know you would come so soon."

"We came as soon as class ended," Cilan said. "My, you're looking better already."

Burgundy flicked her gaze toward him with a distressed expression. She didn't know if he had a poor memory, or if he was knowingly telling a lie. It had only been two days since they last saw her, and she looked worse than before. Her brown skin had turned chalky, and the purple abnormality that was limited to her hand on Tuesday now extended up her arm and disappeared beneath her sleeve.

"Thanks." Karina didn't seem to believe him, either. She changed the subject: "So, the G-Men found my Purrloin?"

"Your Purrloin is currently under the supervision of the Opelucid Pokémon Center, but yes, the G-Men found her," Cilan answered.

"Is she okay?"

"She... she is sick," Cilan said gently.

"Well... obviously, yeah..." Karina drew her hands closer to herself. "Still..."

Cilan was silent for a moment, considering the most graceful way to word his response.

"She is in better condition than the other Pokémon we've seen," he finally said.

"Good." Karina sounded relieved. "So you want me to sign something, right?"

"It's up to you whether you sign them or not," Cilan clarified, but reached into his bag and pulled out a folder containing a thin packet of paper. He handed it to her. "These are permission forms."

"Permission forms?" Karina inquired.

"That Purrloin is yours, Karina," Cilan elaborated. "There are laws in place to protect the rights of trainers to care for their own Pokémon. Neither Nurse Joy nor any member of the G-Men can perform any medical procedure or study outside the standard or reasonableness, unless they receive permission from the trainer."

"The G-Men wants me to give permission for people to experiment on Purrloin?" Karina asked, and Cilan winced.

"The people who want to work with your Purrloin are Professor Samuel Oak, who wrote one of the texts in our class, as well his grandson, Gary Oak," he went on. "Both are advocates for humane treatment of Pokémon in experimental medical or lab settings. I can assure you that neither will intentionally or knowingly inflict harm on Purrloin. They want to help her; they want her to get better."

"They want to cure the virus," Karina exponded, catching Cilan off guard. He cast a glance at both Marion and Joseph.

"We told her about the virus," Mario said simply.

"If they find a cure to the virus through Purrloin, that'll help her, and it will help other Pokémon and trainers, right?" Karina asked, regaining her professor's attention.

"And you," Cilan added with a nod.

Karina lowered her head, thinking. Then, she sighed.

"I'll sign it," she decided quietly, reaching for a pen on a nearby table and clicking it. Cilan let out a breath of relief.

"Thank you, Karina," he said. Karina didn't reply for a while as she flipped through the pages, scanning the writing, before signing the bottom of the page.

"There." She clicked her pen again and handed the forms back to Cilan when she finished. Karina then averted her gaze from his, wringing her hands together. "... When should I drop out of your class, if I'm not better by then?"

"Karina, it's not necessary to drop out," Cilan assured her. "We can file a medical exemption."

"I can only have three absences before I start losing points," Karina reminded him. "I have one left, and I don't know if there's going to be a cure by next Thursday."

"You know, the wonderful thing about designing the syllabus is that the point distribution is to my discretion. You're too excellent of a student to get anything less than an A in my class." Cilan hesitated before adding, "Truly, the thing that impacts student's grades is missing lectures and falling behind on assignments..."

"I would be willing to come here and help Karina catch up," Burgundy interjected suddenly.

"Oh, Ms. Myers, it's sweet of you, but we don't want you to go through so much trouble," Marion spoke up. "There will always be next semester, or the semester after that. Karina is still considered young in the PCA, isn't she? So it wouldn't be like she's terribly behind all her peers."

"I really don't mind," Burgundy persisted. "A medical exemption can allow for those kind of accommodations, right?" She looked back at Cilan for confirmation.

"They can," he affirmed.

"Would you really be okay with doing that?" Karina's countenance lit up at the suggestion, and she looked healthier than before. "I've been trying to keep up on the reading, and I think I could catch up! It's not like I have much to do here anyway..."

Burgundy smiled weakly. She felt a seed of hope sprout inside her, with the way the young girl now glowed.

"Of course," she said. "Of course I would be okay with it."

* * *

"All right, I'll book you a flight for July 15th," Dawn said, with one hand pressing her phone to her ear and the other scrawling a note to herself on the pad in front of her. "Thank you Vivian! We really appreciate you taking the time out of your busy schedule to do this for us."

"_No problem dear!_" Vivian cheerily replied. "_Just keep me updated on any changes, okay?_"

"Will do; no need to worry," Dawn assured her. "Thanks again." After hanging up, she rose to her feet and made her way across the room, passing by May and Max as she did; they were engrossed in their computers, sorting through online applications to volunteer for the contest.

"I just talked to Vivian," Dawn announced when she reached her destination: Drew's desk. "She agreed to MC for us at the contest."

"Good." Drew paused long enough to look up at her. "Contesta told me she would be willing."

"You know, once we get contests off the ground here, the Contesta is probably going to have to hire a couple more regular MCs," Dawn remarked. "I don't think Lillian, Vivian, Marian, and Adrian, plus their couple of fill-ins will cut it anymore. Are there any more Meridian sisters or cousins we don't know of?"

"I don't know, actually," Drew said thoughtfully. "Might have to throw a recommendation in Grace's direction—she did a great job the night of the Q&amp;A."

"Whoa..."

Drew and Dawn cast a glance in Tim's direction, whose hands had lifted off his keyboard as he looked at his screen in awe.

"Whoa what?" Drew asked.

"We just received notification of a large donation," Tim answered. "You'll never belief who it's from."

"Who?"

"Stone."

"Stone as in Cynthia and Steven Stone?" Dawn inquired.

"That's right." Tim nodded.

"How much?" Drew pressed for more information.

"$10,000," Tim replied. "It's pretty generous for a personal donation."

"Hey Drew?" May called for him before Drew had a chance to appropriately react to Tim's news. "You have someone on the phone for you."

"Ah... all right." Drew reached for his phone. "Which line?"

"Two."

"Who is it?" Drew's hand hovered at the button labeled "2," and when May initially didn't answer, he let out a disbelieving breath. "... Don't tell me."

He pressed the button.

"Hello, you're speaking with Drew Hayden," he said.

"_Good afternoon, Drew._"

Drew smiled, but still appeared exasperated; he recognized the voice.

"Hello, Cynthia," he replied. "We just received your donation. Thank you very much."

"_You're welcome. I was calling to ensure it went through, and I'm glad it did._" She paused before asking, "_How is the CIU doing?_"

"We're... doing well."

"_I hear you're having doubts._"

"Where'd you hear that from?" Drew raised an eyebrow.

"_I'm closer to you than you think,_" Cynthia revealed. "_I actually arrived in Unova yesterday, and I plan on being for a while. Have you selected your judges for your contest on the 17th of July yet?_"

"Well, Contesta and Sukizo are givens," Drew said.

"_Of course. Still, would you be interested in a third?_"

* * *

"The hotel we booked for you and Bill isn't far away from the Pokémon Center, well within walking distance," Gary said, keeping his hands on the wheel and eyes on the road as he drove. His grandfather, having just been picked up from the airport, occupied the passenger's seat beside him. "Still, I wouldn't mind coming to pick you up and drive you there every day."

"Gary, you treat me as though I'm fragile enough to break any minute," Professor Oak gently chastised. "I still wake up early and care for hundreds of Pokémon every day. It's kept me young; I can handle walking several blocks."

"Well, you're certainly not getting younger."

"Then you and Leaf ought to have children soon," Oak teased. "I'd like to be a great-grandpa."

Gary smirked but let out an exasperated breath.

"We'll save that for later, Gramps. ... There's the center."

"Ah. ... Why are you driving past it?" Oak asked, casting his grandson a confused look.

"I'm taking you to the hotel first," Gary replied.

"Never mind that," Oak dismissed. "Take me there now. I want to see Purrloin."

"You sure?" Gary asked.

"Yes." Oak nodded. "You have the permission forms, don't you?"

"They're on the dashboard." Gary flicked his head toward the packet. "Cilan brought them to me earlier."

"Good..."

Gary pulled into the reversible lane and waited to make a U-turn to head back to the center. As they did, though, Professor Oak strained to look at something out the window: He thought he could see Ash, among several others, with a Delphox working with some metal rods near a fountain outside the center.

"Gary, is that Ash?" Oak asked, pointing. Gary cast a quick glance in that direction.

"Looks like," he said, his face twisting in confusion.

"Do you know what they're doing?"

"No idea, to be honest." Gary made the turn, heading toward the center's parking lot. He pulled into one of the many empty space and shut off the engine before exiting the vehicle before rounding the front of the hood to help his grandfather do the same. Once inside, they headed immediately toward the front desk where Nurse Joy stood.

"Are you the sister or are you the Nurse Joy who normally runs this center?" Gary asked after reaching her.

"The sister, still," Nurse Joy answered. Gary laid the packet of permission forms on the counter, sliding them toward her.

"Karina Valdis gave us her consent to to work with her Purrloin," he said. Nurse Joy picked up the forms, flipping through each page, making sure everything was appropriately signed.

"Okay," Nurse Joy said, nodding when she finished reading. "Follow me."

She came out from behind the counter and led them behind the double doors reading "Employees Only," which Gary had ignored so many times before. They followed her down the hallway, past several rooms, when the quiet bustle of patients and of Audino was interrupted by a loud, grating screech.

"What was that?" Professor Oak perked up in alarm.

"Purrloin," Nurse Joy answered.

"A _Purrloin_ made that noise?" he asked incredulously.

"Grandpa," Gary began bluntly, "I don't think you fully grasp what we're getting ourselves into."

* * *

"No, No, that's not quite right..." Cilan mumbled to himself, tapping his pen against his chin. "You're confusing strategy with style. ... Either you didn't do the reading, or I didn't do a good enough job making the distinction."

He occupied his half of the bed and was bent over his students' written pieces that they had turned in at the end of class. Iris came in from their bathroom after tying her long hair back into something manageable, having overhead her husband's musings.

"Teaching troubles?" she inquired wryly, catching his attention.

"I've only been doing this for a year," he said. "I still have a lot to learn."

"Most of your students advance to the B-rank, and your evaluations come back positive," Iris reminded him.

"Being well-liked does not equate to being effective."

"Cilan, I think you're too hard on yourself sometimes." Iris joined him on the bed. "And that should mean a lot coming from me, because I'm pretty hard on you."

"You certainly do hold me to a high standard." The situation with Burgundy immediately came to mind. He added, "Not that I mind, of course."

"Well—" Iris folded her arms into her chest. "—I think it's a two-way thing, for you and I."

Cilan smiled weakly.

"As it should be." He leaned in to kiss her, only briefly, but when he pulled away, he noticed a familiar warmth in her eyes—a gentle reminder of why (and how) he became entangled in matters he wanted to stay far away from. His hand now in the small of her back, he moved his lips down to the curve on her lower abdomen. She let out a sharp, breathless laugh.

"Stop that." She shoved his shoulder, pushing him away. "That's ticklish."

"Is it now?" An uncharacteristically sly expression crossed Cilan's face as he set his pen and students' papers aside on the table.

"_No_, don't you dare," Iris warned as he pulled off his glasses, too. He didn't look deterred, so she searched for an excuse. "If I react violently and fall off the bed, that could hurt me, and in turn hurt the baby."

"All right, all right..." Cilan chuckled, giving in. He settled for lying beside her, placing a single hand on her belly instead. "Have you considered names?"

"Not really."

"If it's a girl, perhaps we should name her a flower after her mother," Cilan went on.

"Or just a plant in general, like both of her parents, _Cilantro_," Iris mocked. Cilan resisted the urge to roll his eyes. She had once asked if Cilan was a nickname, and though he said it wasn't, she persisted in occasionally teasing his name's similarity to the herb.

"Perhaps Violet," he suggested.

"Misty has a sister named Violet," Iris pointed out.

"Rose, then."

"Wrong couple," Iris remarked wryly.

"What would you suggest instead?"

Iris hummed, trying to give his question genuine consideration.

"I don't know..." She trailed off. "I haven't had much time to think about it. I feel like I would have to see him or her first to know."

"Fair enough," Cilan conceded.

"I don't know how you can think about this right now," Iris admitted. Her tone wasn't chastising; rather, she sounded envious. "I feel like I can't get any of this business with Virus X out of my head."

Cilan frowned.

"Believe me, it's on my mind, too," he confessed. "I have to hang onto something positive, though. I have to know there is something that will make this all worth it."

Iris's face softened. Cilan, she knew, was an emotional person, but he tended to hide his more taxing feelings—grief, depression, among others—even from her. She reached for his hand, grasping it, and he averted his eyes.

"I can't stop myself from worry about Karina," he went on, "but I think about Marion and Joseph just as often."

.

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	18. XVII: In Which Clemont Strikes Success

.

.

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Chapter XVII: In Which Clemont Strikes Success

.

.

_**June 26th, 2009. Late Evening. Nimbasa City.**_

"Now, now..." Colress said soothingly as the Glaceon squirmed beneath his hands. "Just one more, and then you'll only have live with it for less than twenty-four hours..." He carefully selected another of the thin, short, yet also clear needles from their cylindrical container and, holding the last of Glaceon's four paws, pushed it into the center of the metacarpal pad. Glaceon let out a yelp and tried to sink her teeth into Colress's hand, yet his gloves prevented the Ice-type from breaking skin, and he managed to shake her off.

"See? This isn't so bad," he said, picking Glaceon back up and carrying her into the main kennel, where all the other Pokémon resided in their cages. His arrival was met with several doleful cries from among these caged creatures, begging for him to remove the same pins from their own hands, feet, or paws; others had resigned themselves to this fate and curled up sadly within their contained space.

All in all, there were seventeen Pokémon present, all being the same species as those whose names had appeared in the headlines throughout late May and the whole month of June. They only needed one more, and Annie and Oakley, Colress knew, were on that mission.

Just as he put Glaceon back into her cage, he heard the echo of a shutting reverberate from another room. A sly smile crossed his lips.

"Perfect timing," he said, returning to the back room. Sure enough, there he found both Annie and Oakley, the latter carrying a contented—and unfortunately oblivious—Sandile in her arms.

"So glad you two could make it back so quickly," Colress said. "This Sandile completes the checklist; we'll be ready for tomorrow after all. By what means did you get him?"

"We caught him wild, just like you wanted," Oakley answered. "He's been one of the easier ones. There are Sandile near Route 4, which isn't a far drive from Nimbasa City. The real pain in the ass was getting that Glaceon. Do you know how many of those are in the wild? Practically none, especially in Unova. It would have saved so much time to stake out at the Battle Institute and steal one from some poor sap there. Maybe then we wouldn't be cutting it so close."

"Stealing was not an option in this case," Colress reminded her. "The G-Men, I'm sure, are already suspicious, and if there were reports of missing Pokémon in the area... Well, it would be fairly easy for them to see through our ruse and realize these are in fact not the same Pokémon who became infected and attacked their trainers."

"You know, I am curious," Annie began, folding her arms, "why are we getting another Sandile when that kid's already died?"

"Ms. Ajagara and Ms. Greene are not aware of that."

"Why not tell them he died?"

"We want to give the impression that our program is successful and that a cure is well in development," Colress explained. "Dead Pokémon do not give that impression." Colress retrieved his pins again as Oakley placed him on the table; for the first time, Sandile began to look nervous.

"Annie, will you find me some rope?" Colress politely requested. "I would hate for this little one's jaw to snap onto my arm."

"Even better..." Annie reached into her bag and pulled out a large zip tie. Sandile began to back away as she approached, but once Oakley held him down, she was able to fasten it around his snout.

"Excellent." Colress pulled out a pin and gestured for Oakley to turn Sandile belly-up. He squirmed a little as she did so, but didn't fight much; Oakley, after all, was his new trainer.

"So what's the reason for the pins then?" Annie asked.

"Simply put—" Colress pushed the first pin into one of Sandile's webbed feet, prompting a muffled scream "—the reality is that our program is unsuccessful, and that we don't have any progress on a cure. We need Iris's financial assistance to more vigorously pursue research. Team Plasma's income alone cannot help us. So, we need to convince her we're worthy of investment. If she thinks we're on the edge of a breakthrough but are in need of help, well... that might be the clincher."

Colress pulled out a second pin.

"The pins put the Pokémon through visible pain, but even so, their behavior is less extreme than that of an actually infected Pokémon," Colress went on. "Thus, the illusion of progress."

"So you want Iris to pay for the very thing that will take her and the G-Men down." Oakley grinned wickedly. "I've got to hand it to you and Ghetsis: You're a lot more cunning than Giovanni ever was."

_**June 27th, 2009. Morning. Opelucid City.**_

Misty awoke to the sound of crumpling paper—_violently_ crumpling paper.

In her sleepy state of mind, Misty first assumed that it was Tracey, growing frustrated with one of his pieces and disposing of it. There were times she, while visiting Professor Oak's lab, had dozed off on an open chair or sofa and woken up to Tracey, or Gary, or the professor himself in the middle of an inconveniently noisy activity. She quickly regained her bearings after remembering she was in Opelucid City, an ocean away from the rural Pallet Town, and she quickly sat up, looking for the source of the ruckus.

She only realized from once the sound came when it stopped. Her eyes were drawn toward the door, where she noticed a piece of paper that had been stuffed underneath the wood. Misty furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, but removed her sheets from her and rose up, stretching. She then headed toward the door and bent down the retriever the paper; thought it was horribly crumpled and torn in some places, she could still read the messy though familiar handwriting:

_Misty,_

_Meet me down at that little coffee shop two blocks from here at noon. _  
_You know, the one we went to after we had our practice battle in the_  
_park several weeks ago. I have something for you._

_-Ash K._

Misty blinked and turned the page over to see if there was anything else. She then opened the door to see if he had left anything, but nothing else was there. He could have just as easily texted her; maybe he had misplaced his phone again or forgotten to charge it, or maybe he wanted to use some form of communication that made it more difficult for her to reply. Or maybe this was his childish conception of a romantic gesture, but then again, with how strained their relationship had been, maybe that was just wishful thinking.

Misty shook her head and let out an exasperated chuckle as she laid the note on her desk, next to her cell phone, the screen of which was lit up with dozens of messages from friends wishing her a happy birthday.

* * *

"Final comments," Wallace read the section header aloud, holding a multiple-page report in his hands. "SAMPLe meets all the necessary criteria for Pokémon-based rescues as set forth by NPLB 427 § 13 and more. The facilities were in excellent condition and all Pokémon were receiving adequate treatment with reported success in releasing recovered patients back into the wild. No recommendations for improvement are necessary at this time, but we will need to revisit our evaluation as SAMPLe expands its program and begins accepting trainer-owned Pokémon into its facilities. Final grade: A."

Wallace lowered his hands when he finished reading, and his audience sat in silence for a while, processing this information.

"Well... that's..." Leaf was the first to speak, leaning her head back. "... disappointing."

"Disappointing?" Georgia raised an eyebrow.

"I was half-hoping the PIA had something negative to say in its evaluation," Leaf admitted, grumbling. "But no, nothing in that report suggests malpractice. If there was, it might actually feel more like a viable lead to explore."

"SAMPLe's rate of rehabilitation is high, too: 100 percent," Iris added.

"Two things," Gary retorted, holding up his index and middle finger. "One, that statistic is self-reported." His middle finger went down. "Two, SAMPLe is a small organization. They probably can't take on as many patients as mainstream rehabilitation facilities, so the statistic is skewed anyway." His index followed.

"It also says this evaluation was completed early last year, so it is a bit outdated," Wallace pointed out. "Although, the reason your suspicion was incited, Leaf, was because SAMPLe wasn't appropriately leaving behind contact information to trainers of Pokémon they were taking in as patients. At the time this report was filed, it seems like SAMPLe was only taking in wild Pokémon."

"So it sounds like a bureaucratic issue," Trip remarked, "and it's one that ought to be reported to the PIA for investigation."

"I agree." Leaf chewed on her thumb. "Well, they've still got infected Pokémon, or at least we think they do. I think I'll know how I feel about SAMPLe better once Gary, Iris, and I see them in Nimbasa today." She paused and reached for her phone to check the time. "Speaking of which, we need to get going." Leaf rose to her feet and, casting a quick glance at Iris, asked, "Are you driving?"

"Hm?" Iris perked up.

"Are you driving?" Leaf repeated.

"I can't drive," Iris stated bluntly. "Never learned."

"_What?_"

"Why do you think Cilan and I only own one car?" Iris threw back.

"Arceus, no wonder you hate living here," Georgia said with a deriding laugh. "You can't even fully function in the city."

Her comment gave Cilan pause, and he cast Iris a reflective look. Iris herself scoffed and said, "Yeah, thanks. I don't _hate_ living here."

"I don't need to go anywhere today, so you can take the keys to my car," Cilan offered. "I'm just staying here and writing lessons."

"You sure?" Leaf asked. "I'm betting Agent Murray would drive us there if we asked." Just then, the door opened, and Agent Murray stepped inside. Leaf whipped her head around to look at him. "Agent Murray, perfect timing! Could you possibly drive us to Nimbasa City? We have a tour set up with a rehabilitation facility there."

"I would be willing, but I unfortunately have committed to pick up Professor Bill Blaustein from the airport, since Gary will be accompanying you on this tour and cannot do it himself," Agent Murray reminded her.

"Right..." Leaf faced Cilan again. "Okay, sorry. We need your keys." Cilan reached into his back pocket and handed them off to her.

"Cole, what brings you up here?" Cynthia asked with a warm familiarity.

"Caitlin Pultro is here, Madam Cha- Cynthia" Cole informed her, correcting himself. Leaf suddenly remembered that it was highly likely they had know each other when Cynthia was still a Champion and the head of the Sinnoh G-Men division.

"Is she?" Cynthia raised her eyebrows.

"Caitlin as in my Elite Four member?" Iris inquired.

"That's correct, Ms. Ajagara."

"Please bring her in," Cynthia requested, and Cole nodded before leaving.

"What's Caitlin doing here?" Trip asked, turning to the others. "Not resigning, I hope." The remark struck Iris, and she suddenly looked a little nervous. She had already lost one member, and replacing him with Georgia had been a messy process, one she wasn't willing to repeat.

"I doubt that's the reason for her visit," Cynthia said. "Caitlin and I are long-time friends, and I don't think she would leave her post for any of the reasons Grimsley did."

Soon enough, Caitlin glided into the room, bringing her unmistakably ethereal aura with her. Her eyes lit up when she saw Cynthia, who smiled, albeit more stiffly, in return.

"Caitlin," Cynthia politely acknowledged her, being the first to approach her. "It's so nice to see you again." She embraced Caitlin, an unusual greeting between them, but Caitlin felt the necessity of it emanating from her friend.

"Paul isn't here right now; he's at his apartment," Cynthia told her in a low voice, so no one else would hear. "Only Leaf knows. Everyone else is unaware Paul has an appointment with you; please keep it that way."

"I see." Caitlin pulled back; her gentle demeanor didn't change, as to not hint to her blunder. A quick survey of the room revealed that Paul was indeed not present, as she had mistakenly assumed. "Well, it's wonderful to meet you again, too, Cynthia."

"Hi, Caitlin." Iris stepped forward. "What... What brings you here?"

"Don't worry, Ms. Ajagara," Caitlin immediately assured her. "I have no intention of resigning. I've been traveling, and I came to the city merely to visit you as our new Champion—" She flicked her gaze toward Georgia. "—and to meet the newest Elite Four member."

Iris looked surprised Caitlin had so quickly identified her anxieties, while Georgia was surprised she'd been acknowledged at all.

"Ah... yeah..." Georgia went to shake Caitlin's hand. "I'm Georgia Hamilton; it's nice to meet you."

"I feel the same way. Welcome to the Elite Four." Caitlin smiled. "Dragon Busting, hm? An interesting specialty. It's wonderful. I'm happy to see the upcoming generation breaking traditions more and more often."

"I'm afraid you've caught us at a bad time, Caitlin," Leaf interjected. "We're out the door to Nimbasa City."

"Ah, it seems my timing is all off today, then," Caitlin mused.

"I mean... I'm not going with them so if you want to..." Georgia hesitated, but Caitlin quickly picked the conversation back up.

"Lunch with you would be delightful, but I'm sure you would much rather spend it with this young man here," Caitlin said, gesturing toward Trip, catching both him and Georgia by surprise.

"You and I can catch up, Caitlin," Cynthia offered.

"That would be wonderful; thank you. But first..." Caitlin turned an eye toward Iris. "I ought to at least congratulate you and your husband on your pregnancy."

"Oh, that!" Iris let out a nervous laugh when Caitlin approached and grasped her hand. "Thank you. I know we're excited about it..." Iris trailed off when she noticed Caitlin looking more pensive, her eyes cast down toward the curve in Iris's lower abdomen. Her eyebrows had furrowed, and her lips had fallen into a frown.

"Is something wrong, Caitlin?" Iris inquired.

"Hm?" Caitlin looked up again. "Oh, no; I'm fine. Sometimes I get lost in my own thoughts." Caitlin let go of Iris's hand. "Please know, I am supportive of you. If you feel you want to speak with me, do not hesitate to contact me."

"Ah... I will." Iris nodded. The comment estranged her.

"Well, if that's all, then we really should be going," Leaf said after clearing her throat. "We don't want to be late to the reckoning."

* * *

Ash waited anxiously at a small table-for-two situated near the window, so he could get a clear view of patrons heading inside and outside the small café. He alternated between twiddling his thumbs and glancing outside the glass panes, seeing if she would come. Pikachu sat on the middle of table, munching on a snack Ash had given him, and was warily watching his trainer.

"Pi, Pikachu-Pi?" Pikachu asked after swallowing another bite.

"No, not yet..." Ash trailed off, but as soon as the words left his mouth, he stiffened as he saw a flash of red hair among the throng of passersby. The café door opened, ringing the bell, and Ash jumped to his feet.

"Hey!" Ash waved, making his presence known to Misty, and she smiled in return.

"Hey yourself," she said, making her way over to him. "You look excited to see me."

"I wasn't sure you'd come."

"Why not?" Misty asked.

"I dunno... maybe you had a surprise meeting with Leaf or something." Ash shrugged.

"I think this qualifies as more of a surprise meeting than anything Leaf has ever sprung on me," Misty said, sitting down. Pikachu happily finished the last of his snack before crawling over to her and sliding into her lap, and Misty smiled again as she affectionately rubbed his head.

"Heh... I guess I hadn't thought of that..." Ash admitted.

"So what's the reason for this anyway?" Misty crossed her arms over Piakchu's belly.

"Don't you know what today is?" Ash perked up.

"My... birthday?"

"Yeah!" Ash reached into his bag and pulled out a small rectangular box. He pushed it toward her. "Here, open this."

"Thanks." Misty pulled off the ribbon and then the box's top. She stopped when she saw what was inside. "Oh... Ash. Is this... ?" She reached for the black twine, pulling it out so she could get a good look at the pendant that hung from it: a rainbow pastel heart-shaped scale, protected by a transparent case of the same shape.

"A Heart Scale? Yup." Ash nodded.

"Where'd you get it?" Misty asked, her smile widening. "Heart Scales are considered pretty rare, even with Breeders starting to figure out how they can make Luvdisc produce them. My sisters and I have only seen a few from our Luvdisc over the years, though of course I didn't get to keep any of them..."

"I got it after doing a favor for an old man living on the shore near Fuchsia City, while collecting badges in Kanto last year," Ash explained. "I decided to hang onto it, for you. I was gonna give it you to a lot earlier, but I decided to take it to someone to have it made into a necklace and wait 'till your birthday."

"That's sweet, Ash."

"I try."

"You've gotten a lot more thoughtful over the years; I'll give you that, Ash Ketchum," she laughed. She paused, a finger trailing down the smooth, glass-like surface of the pendant. She eventually laid it back inside the box and sighed.

"What's the matter?" Ash asked her.

"Nothing, I love it. I just..." Misty began carefully, "I thought you were mad at me."

"It's hard to be mad at someone on their birthday," Ash said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Are you going to go back to being mad at me tomorrow?"

Ash shifted uncomfortably in his seat, then asked, "What makes you think I'm mad at you anyway?"

"Ash, you wear your heart on your sleeve," Misty said bluntly. "I can tell when we're having just a dumb argument, and when you're genuinely upset about something."

"I'm not _that_ upset..."

"But you are upset," Misty pressed. "So let's talk about it."

"I don't wanna talk about it on your birthday," Ash grumbled.

"It's okay," Misty assured him with an exasperated laugh. "This is what adults do. They talk about things."

Ash frowned but hummed as he leaned back, thinking.

"I guess..." He began, trailing off. "Okay, so, when I saw Paul the other day, I could tell he was really upset with Leaf. He, like, doesn't want anything to do with her right now."

"I think we all know that Paul's in a bad place right now," Misty said, "and it doesn't surprise me him and Leaf are at odds. They fight a lot more when they're stressed out, and I think with... you know, everything that's going on, that they're more tense."

"Oh no, I know." Ash nodded. "But I guess what kind of surprised me was that he was equally upset when you were brought up; like, he didn't like the idea that you had told me to go see him, which you hadn't, but still..."

"Still what?" Misty prompted.

Ash paused again. Then, he let out a long breath.

"Look, I get that Leaf doesn't want me involved in what's been happening," he said. "There's a lot of stuff that goes into being Champion that I don't 100 percent get, and I didn't realize that there'd be so much trouble when I first decided to compete in Kanto again. Looking back, I get it now. There's the whole, you know, conspiracy that's going on, that started with us seven years ago, and being in the position where we are, we can see that Leaf, and Iris, and Paul were... set up to become Champion. I guess it was so they could try to fix some of the things wrong with the league and G-Men, huh?"

"Yeah," Misty affirmed.

"Well, anyway," Ash went on, "obviously, I kind of am disrupting that system. Leaf was meant to be Champion, and I could take her place when I wasn't supposed to."

"Wait, before you go on," Misty quickly interrupted him, "Leaf is not trying to _prevent_ you from being Champion. She's doing the opposite. Back when the Elite Four matches were being scheduled, she was doing everything to make sure she could get a fair ref, so that there would not be a repeat of the Silver Conference."

"She did?" Ash perked up.

"Yeah; she even tried to get Ritchie."

"_Really?_"

Misty nodded before saying, more quietly, "Ash, I think Leaf actually wants you to win. Fairly, without going easy on you, but she wants it to happen."

"Why?" Ash appeared baffled.

"I think she believes that if you win, and you become the first Champion since Alder to actually win the title the way you're supposed to do it, it'll start to undo some of the things that are wrong with the league and the G-Men," Misty explained. "It'll act like a trigger. Leaf thinks it could be a push for the league and the G-Men to be separated, and for democracy to be restored."

"Wow..." Ash marveled. "Like an actual president?"

"Like an actual president," Misty chuckled.

"What about the Champions?"

"She thinks they'd still be involved, just that they would answer to the 'president' and act more like representatives of their regions," Misty answered. "But that's why she wants to make sure you're not chosen, and that you win it yourself. Otherwise, it just kind of reinforces the current structure."

"Good. I don't wanna be chosen."

"I know. It's partially why she decided to push back your match; she wanted to make sure Paul and Iris were okay, so that you guys would be able to... finish the job without her, if you won and took her spot." She paused before asking, "Does that make better sense?"

"Yeah..." Ash settled back into his seat. "Man, and all this time, I was thinking Leaf was upset and didn't want me to be Champion..."

"Why were you upset with me then?" Misty asked.

"Huh? Well..." Ash paused. "... Like I said, it weirded me out that Paul was just as mad when I brought you up."

"I don't understand what that has to do with anything," Misty admitted.

"I totally expect Leaf to be, you know, weird with me, especially with all that you just explained," Ash said. "She's Leaf. She's gonna do things her way, so she can get the things she needs to be done, done. If that involves keeping me out of the way, then I guess that's her thing. I just—didn't think you'd do the same."

"What?" Misty looked confused.

"You and I have always been honest with each other, Mist," Ash went on. "It took me a while to realize it, but I know you've been working with her to keep us separated, and I guess that just put me off."

Misty's shoulder's sunk.

"Well... truth be told, I had no idea about the... virus—" Misty lowered her voice as she said it. "—either, until Paul said something about it. I was angry with Leaf for a while because she was keeping me in the dark, but now that I know, I can at least understand her reasoning better."

"Still, I wouldn't have been so upset if you'd just told me what was happening—if you'd just explained all you did in the last five minutes," Ash pressed.

Misty nodded slowly, showing that she understood. Her lips were pressed into a hard line.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked.

"Nothing. I'm not mad at you anymore," Ash replied. "Just... be honest with me, all right? No more secrets."

"No more secrets," Misty agreed, and Ash grinned.

"Anyway, I'm starved," he said. "I'm gonna get us some food. My treat, for your birthday."

"Okay." Misty smiled. "Thanks Ash. This is sweet."

"Hey, no problem. I wanted to make sure you had a good day," he said.

"You could've just kissed me, and that would've sealed the deal."

Ash mentally stumbled and stared at her for a long moment, while both she and Pikachu wore knowing expressions. He let out a nervous chuckle and scratched the back of his head, saying, "Ha, well, I think I could do that, too, maybe when we're not in a public place... anyway, the food."

He scurried off, and Misty rolled her eyes.

"He's still an idiot," she said, and Pikachu laughed in agreement.

* * *

"I _really_ don't want to do this," Paul mumbled, his arms folded as he cast a glance into the front room, where Cynthia and Caitlin stood, chatting. Reggie flicked his eyes toward his younger brother and frowned.

"Paul, she's come all this way," he gently prodded.

"I'll go through with it. I just don't want to," Paul clarified.

"Hey, just be honest with her, all right?" Reggie encouraged. "She's here to help you, not to judge you."

"Mhm," Paul intoned.

"I'm serious, Paul."

"Yeah."

The conversation between Caitlin and Cynthia ended, and the former Sinnoh Champion broke away from her to meet Paul and his brother.

"Reggie and I will stay in the living room," she said. "You can go in and sit with her. We won't be able to hear any of what's said."

"All right." Paul nodded. Both she and Reggie shuffled away, and Paul moved forward, into the view of the front room. Caitlin smiled at him when he appeared, folding her hands and resting them against the front of her soft pink dress.

"Hello." She had a gentle, dreamy tone. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Rebolledo."

"Yeah... Caitlin, right?" Paul was guarded as he approached her, sliding his hands into his pockets.

"That's correct." She nodded before glancing down at his jeans. "Here, give me your hand."

Paul appeared estranged, but nevertheless pulled one out, and she grasped it with both of hers. She pressed her right thumb firmly against his ring finger, and she looked as though she were examining it. They waited in a strained silence for a few moments before she let go and reached up to touch his cheek. He flinched when she did and took a step back, out of her reach.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, unfazed. "I understand, though. Physicality is an invasion; you can learn more than you would expect of a person through touch. I think I learn too much, sometimes."

Paul stared at her, unsure of how to respond. Then, he gruffly asked, "How much did Cynthia tell you?"

"She told me nothing," Caitlin said as she moved past him, toward an armchair, and sat down, "other than you and I should have an appointment."

He let out a short, annoyed breath.

"I don't know how these things are supposed to go," he admitted, sitting on a nearby sofa.

"Well, perhaps we ought to begin by establishing the reasons why we're meeting at all," she suggested. She reached into her purse and pulled out a small notepad and a ballpoint pen, clicking it.

"We're meeting because Cynthia said we should," Paul said bluntly, folding his arms.

"All right." Caitlin went with it. "Then why do you think Cynthia thinks we should meet?"

"Because I sound suicidal to her—and to my brother and Leaf." The word "suicide" tasted sour any time he said it, in any form. It always had been, but within the past several days, its flavor had turned even more acidic.

"What makes you sound suicidal to them?"

"I'm not suicidal," Paul asserted.

"I believe you," Caitlin tacitly replied. "I wasn't asking whether you were suicidal or not, just why they think you sound it."

Paul's lips curved into a frown. He had already decided he didn't like this—sharing these issues with a complete stranger. Although, he supposed, it wasn't any worse than talking to Reggie or any other friend or acquaintance about this. There were less strings attached.

"My Torterra died a week ago," he said.

"So I've heard. What makes you sound suicidal?" she repeated the question without missing a beat, and he stared.

"I don't know," he eventually replied.

"Do you think their concerns are baseless?"

"... No."

"Then what are the reasons for their concerns?" It was the same question she had repeated multiple times over, just phrased differently.

Paul leaned back and folded his arms, his eyes burning into hers. She remained unperturbed however, and he soon averted his eyes, flicking a strand of his bangs out of his face.

"I haven't wholly been myself lately," he answered.

"Who is yourself?" Caitlin asked. This drew a blank stare out of Paul, and she added, "It's okay, it's a difficult question. Give it some thought." Paul furrowed his eyebrows, looking more suspicious than anything, but he still wouldn't answer. Finally, Caitlin suggested, "You can answer the question in more concrete terms."

It took him a moment to understand what she meant, but when he did, he finally conjured an answer.

"I'm the Sinnoh Champion," he said.

"Only the Sinnoh Champion?"

"I'm also the head of the Sinnoan G-Men."

"Only the Sinnoh Champion and the head of the Sinnoan G-Men?"

"What are you wanting from me?" Paul asked, frustrated.

"Nothing. It's just a question," Caitlin said lightly.

Paul adjusted his sitting position and folded his arms again.

"Well, no," he said.

"No what?"

"No, I'm not just the Sinnoh Champion and the head of the Sinnoan G-Men," he clarified.

"What else are you?" Caitlin asked. After another spell of silence, she could tell the question was trying Paul more than she intended, and she said, "Well, let's just start with that. You said you haven't wholly been yourself lately, and you define yourself as the Sinnoh Champion and the head of the Sinnoan G-Men. What makes you less than those two things?"

Paul's lip twitched.

"Leaf banned me from the Opelucid Gym, which effectively stops me from carrying out my responsibilities."

"Why did she ban you?"

"She wanted me to get help," he answered, "which I guess I'm doing now."

"Help for what?"

"She thinks I'm suicidal."

"So we're back to the question of why people think you're suicidal." Caitlin smiled, which irritated Paul.

"She also thinks I'm schizophrenic," he elaborated. "Or, she thinks I think I am."

"Why does she?"

"Because my mother was schizophrenic." He hesitated before adding, "And she killed herself."

"Do you think Leaf only believes your schizophrenic because your mother was, and that you're at risk for suicide because she killed herself?"

"No," Paul admitted. "I'm sure Dawn told her something."

"Who's Dawn?"

"My ex-girlfriend."

"Why do you believe Dawn thinks you're at risk?"

"I don't know what Dawn thinks." Paul looked away again, and Caitlin frowned. She made a note that they would have to address Dawn again, perhaps at a later session, if there was one.

"Let's return to how you define yourself," Caitlin said, looking up again. "Right now, you're not wholly the Sinnoh Champion or a leader in the G-Men. The reason you gave me for this was that Leaf was disallowing you from carrying out your duties. Were you wholly those two things before Leaf stepped in, though?"

"... No."

"Why not?"

The question was initially met with silence. Then, Paul briefly closed his eyes and rubbed his temple.

"I lost my Torterra—my starter Pokémon."

He had said it before, but this time, Caitlin nodded, understanding.

"A trainer's starter Pokémon is often their closest partner," she said. "It's a trainer's best friend and a huge part of who they are. For a Champion, it's their signature—it's what the public knows them by."

"Yeah," Paul mumbled.

"Losing Torterra is like losing a huge part of your identity."

"... Yeah." Paul's voice had grown more quiet.

"So, would you say you were wholly yourself, as the Sinnoh Champion and leader of the Sinnoan G-Men, before Torterra died?" When she received no response, she prompted, "Paul?"

"No," he replied. The hostility and defensiveness in his tone had vanished, and Caitlin knew she had him. "I can't say that."

"Why not?" Caitlin asked.

Paul said nothing for a while, considering how he should answer. Then:

"I used to be in control," he said plainly.

"Of what?"

"Myself."

"You used to be in control of yourself, the Sinnoh Champion and the leader of the Sinnoan G-Men?" Caitlin asked, but Paul shook his head.

"No, I never—" He swallowed. "—I never had control over that. I had control over-"

"-Paul Rebolledo," she finished for him, and it struck Paul that this was the answer she had wanted, and that he had never even thought to give it.

"... Right."

"Paul Rebolledo—Reggie's brother, Brandon and Lucia Blair's son, Dawn's boyfriend, a member of the famed fourteen in Napaj, and an exceptionally skilled trainer. Not just any trainer, but Torterra's trainer," Caitlin continued. It suddenly occurred to Paul that Caitlin knew a lot more about him than he anticipated, and he wasn't sure how. "Much more than just the Sinnoh Champion and a leader in the G-Men, hm?"

He watched her warily but said nothing.

"Being Paul Rebolledo is manageable," she went on, "but once you add being the Sinnoh Champion and the leader of the Sinnoan G-Men, it becomes a lot harder to juggle all your different identities, and being Paul Rebolledo isn't as easy anymore."

"I've already told Cynthia I was sorry I couldn't handle it," Paul murmured.

"Don't be so hard on yourself," Caitlin advised. "You're 23. The adult brain isn't fully developed until you're 25, and even then, your position is one of the most stressful to any age. Cynthia is undoubtedly one of the strongest trainers in the world and likely could have held onto her title well into her golden years, but she burned out before was 30-years-old. And besides—" Caitlin closed her notebook. "—Cynthia still has faith in you, and I would suppose Leaf does, too, if she would have you get help." She folded her hands neatly on her lap and added, "But, I suppose you've already marked yourself a failure. Is it because you feel you couldn't save Torterra?"

Paul found it unnerving how incisive—and accurate—she was, especially since she had managed to put into words what he was hardly willing to arrange into thoughts.

"More than... that..." It was difficult to acknowledge. "... I've made mistakes that have been costly—to Iris, especially."

"All leaders makes mistakes," Caitlin said. "Cynthia could tell you that. Do you think Iris and Leaf are perfect?"

Paul scoffed.

"Definitely not."

"Then why hold yourself to an impossible standard?" Caitlin asked. "Surely Paul Rebolledo made mistakes before he was the Sinnoh Champion and the leader of the Sinnoan G-Men?"

"Not as many," Paul mumbled, "and not at as high of a price." He lifted a hand to his head. "Dawn was the one—Dawn was the one who convinced me to do it, to go through with becoming the Sinnoh Champion. I had always wanted to be Champion, but I started backing away when I realized what was involved, and she pushed me forward again. And I convinced myself, and Cynthia, I was ready. But I didn't realize how high this pedestal is, and it's a long way down."

"Not only do you expect perfection of yourself, being the person you are, you also realize the world expects perfection of you," Caitlin mused, and Paul nodded. He raked his fingers through his hair and let his head fall.

"... I know there's something wrong with me," he said quietly.

"And you're afraid people are going to find out," Caitlin added. "And that you'll take a long tumble from that pedestal."

Paul said nothing, and Caitlin leaned back in her chair.

"I can tell you now that you're not schizophrenic, Paul," she said.

"I'm not?" Paul glanced up at her.

"No," Caitlin affirmed. "You're depressed."

_**June 27th, 2009. Afternoon. Nimbasa City.**_

"You know, I can't believe you don't know how to drive," Leaf said, leaning her head against her hand as she stared out the car window, at the variety of strip malls that lined the busy streets of Nimbasa City. Iris flicked her eyes up front, realizing the comment was directed toward her.

"Why's it so shocking?" she asked.

"It's 2009. Everyone knows how to drive." Leaf threw up a hand as though it were obvious.

"Not where I come from." Iris shrugged.

"Yeah, speaking of which, do they use cell phones in the Village of Dragons?" Leaf asked.

"No." Iris shook her head. "We mostly communicate by way of letters. There is one video phone in the village, though."

"That explains a lot," Leaf scoffed. She then added, "I could teach you how to drive."

"Don't take her up on that offer," Gary, the driver, suddenly interjected.

"I won't," Iris half-laughed. "Thanks, but no thanks. Cilan's already offered, but I don't need to know."

"How do you get around?"

"Well, I have a team of very large Dragons, many of which can fly, and they need to exercise their wings _somehow_."

Before Leaf could respond, Gary craned his neck to get a better look at a sign and said, "Looks like this is it,"

"It is?" Leaf straightened up.

"Mhm," Gary hummed. "You can see the SAMPLe logo on that board."

"This is just a little office complex," Iris remarked, looking around as Gary pulled into the parking lot.

"We always knew SAMPLe was small," Gary mumbled. He drove by a map and stopped, rolling down his window so he could examine it. When he finished, he rolled it back up and made a turn to the western side of the lot and found an open space. He turned off the car and exited the vehicle, with Iris and Leaf soon to follow.

"Come on, it's up this way," Gary gestured toward a couple of small, one-story buildings. They soon found what they wanted: A dark-glass door with SAMPLe printed in large white letters and an empty-eyed silhouette of a Buneary placed above the type. Below the logo were the office hours, as well as the words "Rescue, Rehabilitate, Research."

Gary opened up the door and stepped inside.

"Good afternoon," a woman with short, red hair greeted them. "How may I help you?"

"Hi, we have a meeting with a man named Elijah scheduled... ?" Leaf took the lead.

"That would be me." Elijah stepped out from behind a door. "I'm so happy you could make it." His yellowish, piercing gaze turned on Gary when he realized he was there. "Mr. Oak. I did not expect to see you here."

"Well, you had talked a bit about SAMPLe the night we met at my thesis defense," Gary said coolly. "I list that as one reason, among others, why I wanted to come check your facilities out."

"I see," Elijah mused. "Well, we're pleased to have you." He turned toward the woman at the front desk, gesturing toward her. "I should introduce you. This is Aldith; she manages our front desk."

"It's a pleasure and honor to have your here." Aldith politely bowed her head.

"How long have you been working here, Aldith?" Iris inquired.

"For as long as we've open, Madam Champion," Aldith respectfully answered.

"How long is that?" Leaf asked.

"We officially began accepting Pokemon in mid-2007," Elijah replied. "But the idea of SAMPLe has lived for much, much longer. I've always wanted to open a research facility, to seek after what brings out the true inner power of Pokemon, but never had the means to do. Then I met my partner, who had his own visions and dreams, and SAMPLe became a reality."

"So you're not just a representative, you're the co-founder," Iris said.

"I still consider myself a representative of SAMPLe. All of our employees are," Elijah clarified.

"Who's your partner?" Leaf asked.

"A good man. He and his children care very much about the wellbeing of Pokemon," Elijah answered. "Hence, why SAMPLe is unique, in that it is both a research and rescue facility."

"That's right; you told me how you believe bringing out the true power of Pokémon helps them survive better," Gary commented warily.

"Correct." Elijah nodded. "Our goal is to bring in ailing Pokemon, rehabilitate them, and release them back into the wild."

"Even the infected ones belonging to those trainers, with whom your workers never left SAMPLe's contact information?" Gary asked with an edge in his voice.

"Gary." Iris glared at him, and Leaf frowned, too.

"Infected?" Elijah raised his eyebrows. "You're talking about the virus in your thesis, aren't you?"

"I am," Gary stiffly confirmed.

Elijah was silent for a moment. Then, he smiled—slyly.

"It's curious how small of a world it is," he said. "I fully recognize why the G-Men are here, and why they are invested in the string of attacks throughout Unova recently."

When he saw their surprised expressions, he continued, "Didn't think I didn't know? It must have been fate I was in Kanto that night, and that I ended up seeing your thesis. It wasn't long after that the attacks began that I saw the descriptions of the afflicted Pokemon matched those described in your thesis, and I was sure it was impossible. SAMPLe previously worked solely with wild Pokémon or Pokémon abandoned by their trainers, but my own curiosity forced me to make an exception for these poor Pokémon. I apologize that proper protocol wasn't followed by my workers picking up these Pokémon; it is out first time doing this, and it will be amended in the future. Rest assured, we know the trainers to whom each of our patients belong."

"So it's true? There are Pokémon here with Virus X?" Leaf asked.

"Indeed."

"Can we see them?" she pressed.

"It's not a pleasant sight," Elijah warned. "Please, let us have lunch first. To do otherwise would ruin your appetite, and that would be unfortunate, since Ms. Ajagara is eating for two now."

Leaf exchanged a quick glance with Iris, who shrugged in response. Gary appeared less patient, but Leaf looked back to Elijah anyway and said, "All right. Lunch first."

_**June 27th, 2009. Afternoon. Opelucid City.**_

"So when do you think the G-Men are going to go public about... you know, everything?" Burgundy asked, twirling her straw through her drink. She had hardly touched her food at all.

"From what I understand, Gary and his grandfather are just confirming their understanding of how the virus affects Pokémon, and Bill's coming today to add to those efforts," Trip answered in a matter-of-fact tone. He sat across from her, next to Georgia, who was munching on some fries. "And plus, he—Gary, I mean—and Leaf and Iris went to check out some rehabilitation facility today, so I don't think it's too far off."

"She said next week," Georgia recalled.

"Yeah, sometime next week," Trip agreed.

"That's good, I guess," Burgundy mumbled.

"Don't worry," Georgia wearily assured her. "Karina's going to be fine. Professor Oak and Gary and Bill will find the cure, and this will all be behind us."

"Yeah, except for Paul, and for the families whose kids died," Trip said.

"You know, Trip, people have things called filters," Georgia grumbled. "Please use yours."

"Just saying." Trip shrugged. "We've reached a point where it will never go back to normal for some people, and I think we should acknowledge that."

"Aren't you meeting with Karina later?" Georgia addressed Burgundy, decidedly ignoring Trip. Burgundy nodded.

"She sent me an email earlier saying she caught up on all the readings, and I'm going to visit her and review Cilan's lecture notes with her," she elaborated. "Cilan is supposed to help her parents file a medical exemption through the PCA, so she'll still be okay to pass the class and test for her B-rank."

"Gee, you're going pretty far for this girl," Georgia half-laughed. "Still desperate to make sure the board doesn't expel you, huh?"

"You think I'm only doing this because I'm hoping to earn brownie points with the board?" Burgundy suddenly snapped, and Georgia recoiled back in surprise.

"Sorry..." Her apology was only somewhat sincere, and after a short silence, Trip decided he'd had enough.

"Well, I've got to get going." Trip crumpled up his napkin and laid it on his tray before rising to his feet.

"Where are you headed?" Georgia asked.

"To see Ritchie," Trip answered. "Apparently, he, Ash, Misty, and the Kalos crew have been working on something recently, and he wants me to see it."

* * *

"On July 16th, the day before the contest, all volunteers will report to the stadium at 2 p.m. to receive their assignment instructions and get a feel for what will happen at the contest the next day," Max explained over the phone. "Then, on the 17th, they'll come at 8 a.m., an hour before registrations begin. ... Yeah, there's a uniform. We ask that all volunteers wear a black shirt and dark jeans, and we'll provide a lanyard with an ID to show that you're a volunteer."

Max twirled his finger through the phone cord, looking bored. He had lost count of how many calls he'd made exactly this one today alone. He was sure he could go through the online spreadsheet on his computer and count how many names were highlighted green—May had insisted he mark all the people he called green, while she marked all the people she called red, "like Christmas colors"—but that would be just as tedious.

"In a couple days, we'll send an email with all this information to the one you listed in your volunteer application," Max went on. "Feel free to ask us any questions. ... Okay. Thank you for your willingness to help the CIU."

Max sighed when he hung up the phone, and May glanced at him over her shoulder and smiled.

"You know, I'm so glad you decided to stay in Opelucid," she remarked.

"You are?"

"Yeah." She nodded. "You and I don't spend nearly enough time together."

"That's because when we're together for too long, we're at each other's throats."

"Okay, but _all_ siblings are like that." May rolled her eyes.

"Hey May?" Brianna shyly inquired, approaching her desk. "Do you think you could come with me for a moment? Mr. Drew and I want your opinion on something."

"Sure!" May rose up and followed her. Just as they left, the desk phone rang, and Max picked it up.

"Hey," May greeted, leaning over the wall, toward Drew, after being led to Brianna's desk. "What's going on."

"May," he acknowledged, turning toward her, while Brianna joined his side. "We're ordering the lanyards for the staffers and volunteers right now, and we're using an extended design of our logo on them. We originally were going to use black as the base color, but Brianna pointed out that it would blend in against the black shirts, so she suggested white like on the pens, but I think that would get dirty too easily. We're trying to figure out what color to use instead."

He faced the computer screen toward her, showing off a digital rendering of what the lanyard might look like. May pressed her hand to her chin, examining it.

"Make it pink," she suggested. "It'll look good with the design, and it'll stand out from the black shirts."

"May, we do have both men and women volunteering for us," Drew reminded her.

"Since when do colors have genders?" May asked, prompting a long, thoughtful stare from Drew.

"You know what, you're right," he finally said before turning back to the screen. "Make it pink."

Max soon found May again, and he addressed a question to both her and Drew: "Hey, is it possible to have more than three judges at a contest?"

"I've seen as many as six judges," Drew replied.

"Yeah, it just depends," May added. "Why?"

"Well, if that's the case, then we might have a celebrity panel of judges," Max said before making direct eye contact with Drew, "because Wallace is on the phone, and he wants to be a judge, too."

_**June 27th, 2009. Afternoon. Nimbasa City.**_

"This was the fourth patient we took in," Elijah said, stopping in front of one of the cages within the kennel. Inside was a Glaceon, mewling loudly, and cowering in the corner. "This one attacked her trainer outside Ambiga Town, and when we learned of her story, we knew she was another of the infected."

Iris watched the creature sympathetically, noticing it was in obvious pain.

"Poor thing..." She trailed off. Leaf nodded in agreement, while Gary moved to get a closer look. Glaceon looked at him with wide eyes, her pupils expanding.

"I don't see any of the symptoms here—no fur falling out, no skin aberrations, no discoloration of the scleras..." he mused.

"They're gone," Elijah said plainly. "Our treatments have managed to lessen the symptoms."

"That's... amazing," Leaf commended. Her tone carried some uncertainty.

"Obviously, she and the others are still ill." Elijah reached his hand into Glaceon's cage, and she snapped her jaw at him, causing him to quickly withdraw. "There's more to do, but we are pleased with our progress."

Iris drew her arms around herself and looked away. She now understood why Elijah had suggested eating before heading into the kennel. The Pokémons' languid, unnatural moans that rung through the room disturbed her.

"Could we just look around for a little bit, if possible?" she asked Elijah.

"Please do," he said, nodding.

"Thank you." Iris then disappeared around the corner, to look at the following row of Pokémon. Leaf touched Gary's arm and gestured for him to follow her, and they moved away from Elijah under the guise of looking at more Pokémon.

"What do you think?" she asked him quietly

"I don't what to think." Gary folded his arms and looked way.

"Well, I think his story checks out," Leaf breathed, "and that we might have ourselves an ally."

Iris kept her arms close to herself as she walked up the row, casting glances at each of the Pokémon inside their cages. She didn't think she had ever seen Pokémon looking so utterly depressed, and it didn't sit with her well. She stopped in front of one particular cage and moved her face closer to the bars to offer one particular creature a hopeful smile.

"Hi there," she greeted amiably. "You're Marin Albescu's Deino, aren't you?"

The Deino thrashed suddenly, gnashing its jaw.

_No, no..._

"No?" Iris perked up.

_They hurt me. They hurt me..._

"Who hurt you? Marin?" Iris pressed.

Deino drew further back into the cage, its feet fidgeting.

_No, no..._

"Elijah?" Iris looked up when she heard Leaf call his name, and she cast Deino one last sympathetic look before leaving. She peered around the corner and saw Leaf and Gary approaching Elijah again. Leaf continued, "I have to admit, I'm really impressed with what you've done here."

"Why thank you, Ms. Greene," Elijah said graciously. "We feel we may be on the edge of a breakthrough, and we hope we reach it soon, for the sake of all these Pokémon. It's lucky you decided to visit us now. While we've done all we can, we may need a final, helpful push to reach a cure."

"Financially?" Leaf inquired, and Elijah nodded. "We can do better than that. Since the Pokémon Center Network is connected to the league, the G-Men has its resources at full disposal. We can get SAMPLe access to those resources."

Unsurety manifested itself in Elijah's expression.

"It's kind of you, but-"

"-We share the same goal as you, Elijah: We want to find a cure," Leaf cut him off. "The G-Men have been talking to people, searching for answers. Moreover, Gary here, and his grandfather, the Professor Oak, and another famous researcher, Bill Blaustein, are studying an infected Purrloin, also trying to find a treatment, but they haven't made as much progress as you."

"What are you suggesting?" Elijah asked.

"A partnership," Leaf answered. "In exchange for sharing your research so far, we can offer the resources of our Pokémon Centers and some of the brightest minds of modern Pokémon research. We'll engineer a cure together, and be able to save these Pokémon, and their trainers."

Elijah stared as he pressed his lips into a hard line.

"No," he said.

"No?" Leaf looked and sounded genuinely surprised.

"No," Elijah repeated. "SAMPLe has little interest in working in conjunction with the G-Men."

"What, so you'll take the G-Men's grant money, but not their help?" Gary asked wryly.

"We would accept the league's financial assistance," Elijah clarified.

"The league and the G-Men are the same in everything but name," Leaf pressed. "Besides, you're standing across from the person who did all the preliminary research on Virus X. He is your most valuable resource. If you would show him-"

"-I will not show him our research," Elijah said firmly, and Leaf drew back. "My dream for SAMPLe—my partner's and I dream—is larger than this small office, and it is larger than the G-Men. This virus, and finding its cure, could be our rising."

Gary scoffed.

"I see how it is," he said.

"Pardon me?" Elijah raised an eyebrow.

"Successfully finding a cure would a lucrative venture for SAMPLe, and it would catapult it to fame in the world of research," Gary elaborated, "and even turn commercial, if you later figured how to control the virus's side effect of increasing a Pokémon's power. You can't really take the credit if there are other names attached."

"I'm glad you understand," Elijah said simply.

"There are lives at stake here." Leaf's voice had taken an incensed tone.

"Precisely, which is why you don't have much room to negotiate," Elijah replied, equally tense.

"There is no negotiation." Iris stepped out from behind the corner. "The answer is no."

Elijah faced her to say, calmly, but seriously, "Ms. Ajagara, please consider your better interests. If a cure is not engineered with the timeliness it deserves, you will face severe consequences. Your reputation is already blemished, at best. SAMPLe will face no such issues."

"That's selfish." Iris did nothing to hide her resentment. It was perhaps the angriest, and the most indignant, Leaf had ever seen her. Iris had snapped at her before, stood up to her, but unlike those times, Leaf could see now that there was a fire burning in Iris's eyes. She exchanged a quick glance with Gary, who appeared equally taken with Iris's quiet ferocity.

"That's business," Elijah said tersely.

"I don't want anything to do with people who are selfish at the cost of Pokémons' wellbeing," Iris spat.

"We are steps away from a cure, and you are unwilling to cooperate," Elijah threw back. "Who is truly the selfish one?"

"The people who do what's right in spite of the effects on their name." Leaf jumped back into the conversation. "Elijah, I hope you change your mind. What you've done so far is impressive, but I think we've reached a wall here."

Elijah let out a long breath but soon straightened up again.

"So it seems," he said.

_**June 27th, 2009. Afternoon. Opelucid City.**_

"Okay, I think I've adjusted to be _just_ the right amount this time," Clemont said after carefully pouring a new measured amount of a glimmering blue dust—Butterfree Sleeping Powder—into a tube attached to a hexahedron container with a wide base and short, square top that could open up, if unlocked. The tube, punctured with tiny, equally-spaced holes, looped around the edges of the top rectangular face, while the the base was lined with white padding.

A tired-eyed Sparky who sat next to Clemont on the table shook off his sleepy daze and glowered at the blond trainer, who sheepishly said, "Sorry! You're the closest to Purrloin in size and weight, so you're our best test subject..."

"Just give it one more shot, Sparky!" Ritchie encouraged from far off. Sparky cast him an incredulous look but begrudgingly consented to Clemont placing him back inside the container.

"So, how long have you guys been working on this?" Trip asked, looking back at Ritchie.

"Several days now," Ritchie answered. "I think seeing that Purrloin and hearing Paul tell us about the virus served as a kind of impetus to do something."

"Gary hasn't said mentioned any of this to us."

"I don't think Gary knows."

"He doesn't?" Trip gave him an odd look.

"Clemont wanted the project to be finished when showed it to the others, and to be fair, I don't think the others would show much interest unless it were finished." Ritchie shrugged.

"That's true," Trip conceded, looking back toward Clemont and the others. "It looks like you're not far off from being finished, though."

"Do you think they'll be interested?" Ritchie asked.

"Dunno," Trip answered. "Gary and Leaf can be hard to predict. I think it's great."

"Hey! Trip!"

Trip straightened up and turned in the direction where he heard his name called. Both Ash and Misty were approaching, with Pikachu in Misty's arms.

"Hey, where've you two been?" Trip returned the greeting.

"Yeah, I've been meaning to wish you a happy birthday, Misty," Ritchie added. "I have a gift for you in my room."

"Oh Ritchie, you didn't have to do that."

"Ah, it's no big deal." Ritchie waved it off. "It's just a Net Ball, for the next time you go fishing."

"Well, thank you," Misty said. "Ash and I were actually out to lunch."

"I sent you a message this morning but I might as well tell you in person now: Happy birthday." Trip then added, "I owe you a drink."

"Ha! It worked! I can't believe it. It worked!" Clemont's celebratory yelling drew the attention of the group and several other guests in the Pokémon Center's lounge. Serena looked embarrassed while, Bonnie was jumping up and down with her brother. Sparky was slumped inside the container, sleeping.

"I'll take you up on your offer for drinks, Trip." Misty cast him a quick smile. "But I think we should take that handy invention of Clemont's for Leaf and the others to see first, don't you agree?"

* * *

"Wait, I'm not sure I still understand..." Karina began tentatively, squinting at the textbook on her lap. "What exactly _is_ the difference between strategy and style? I'm sorry..."

Several papers an other tools of learning laid scattered around Karina on her hospital bed, with Burgundy keeping close company. Marion and Joseph had left them alone to their tutoring session earlier, decidedly going to the hospital cafeteria to get something to eat and take a break from tending to their ailing daughter.

"Don't apologize," Burgundy assured her. "The book isn't entirely clear."

"Yeah... Poltiere gets kind of wordy..." Karina mused, surprising Burgundy. It was taboo to criticize the PCA President—or any S-Class for that matter—and though Burgundy had done it herself in the company of Georgia, she had never heard another connoisseur affirm her own thinking.

"All Connoisseurs get wordy. They've got to show off their _fantaisie_ vocabulary," Burgundy said flippantly.

"Not you," Karina pointed out.

"That's because I'm an A-Class."

"What difference does that make?" Karina asked wryly. "I think it's better. I really like Professor Griffith, and you can tell he's really passionate and that he cares about his students, and I've learned a lot from him, but sometimes his lectures can be hard to follow. That's why I'm glad you're the person helping me."

Burgundy stared, and Karina shyly looked up with a smile. Her scleras were a faint shade of lavender, and it unnerved Burgundy, though she was careful not to show her discomfort.

"Well... thank you." Burgundy paused. "You should tell Professor Griffith that, or write it into his end-of-the-semester evaluation. He'd change in a heartbeat for you, or for any of his students."

"Why don't you just tell him?"

"Believe me, I've given him a fair share of criticism over the years, and he hasn't listened," Burgundy scoffed.

"Oh, I didn't realize you two had known each other for so long. Are you friends?" Karina asked earnestly.

The inquiry caught Burgundy off guard, and she hesitated.

"Something like that," she eventually answered. Burgundy picked up her copy of Poltiere's text again. "Anyway, style and strategy... They're related, but they're not the same. Trainers base their strategies on their style. For example a trainer's whose style focuses on Speed might use strategies that involve boosting their own Pokémon's Speed and/or lowering their opponent's Speed."

"So... they might use moves like Agility or Rock Tomb?"

"Right." Burgundy nodded.

"Okay. I think I understand. Let me just write that down..." Karina grasped her pen, but a couple involuntary twitches in her fingers caused her to drop it. "Agh, not again..." She grabbed the utensil again and started to writing, but midway through her sentence, her breath became short, and her gaze hazy. She stopped writing as her head swayed.

"Karina, are you okay?" Burgundy asked worriedly. "Do you need something to drink?"

"No. It's just..." Karina's panted, trailing off as she clutched her chest. "My chest... started..." She suddenly slumped forward, and her heart monitor rung.

"Oh Arceus." Burgundy jumped up. "Karina? Karina! What's wrong?" Her words were drowned out as several nurses rushed into the room, pushing Burgundy out of the way.

"She's gone into sudden cardiac arrest—get the defibrillator," one nurse ordered to a colleague.

"What?!" Burgundy exclaimed.

"Ma'am, we need you to leave the room." A different nurse began to prod Burgundy out of the room.

"Wait, no—what's happening? Is she going to be okay?" Burgundy asked desperately.

"We'll do what we can," he told her, and the last Burgundy saw was Karina's materials being pushed off her bed as a nurse ripped open the girl's hospital gown.

* * *

Serena wrung her hands, watching Leaf's unchanging expression carefully as Clemont presented his newest invention, born of their collected efforts over the past few days. Gary wasn't there—he had apparently gone straight to the Pokémon Center after arriving back from Nimbasa City, meaning they had likely (and unintentionally) passed him on their way to the gym—so the main audience members to impress were Leaf, Wallace, and Iris, though everyone was putting the most stake in Leaf.

"So, uh..." Clemont fumbled with his tablespoon measurement of Butterfree Sleeping Powder, but managed not to spill any. "You put this in here when Purrloin is acting out, or when you need to administer it some medicine, or give it food or water, and..." He shut the tube now containing the powder and invited Sparky for one final test.

Sparky sighed and allowed him to be placed inside the container, through the shutter at the top. Clemont closed the shutter, locked it, and then moved his hand to a blue knob below the tube where he had poured the powder. He pulled it out and quickly pushed it back in, and the glittery dust flew the entrance and fogged up the entire container. When it settled, Sparky was passed out on the base cushions.

"It, uh..." Clemont adjusted his glasses. "It should last about seven to eight minutes, given Purrloin's weight and size. It would make for more efficient work, since normally a tranquilizer or other sleep aid can last hours. You shouldn't have to use it so often to calm Purrloin, though; the cushions make it harder for it to hurt itself by accident if it's trying to escape, and the base is wide and heavy so it can't tip it over. And... that's it!"

A short silence followed, punctured only by Sparky's gentle snores.

"What do you think, Leaf?" Ash tried to gauge her reaction.

"This is..." she began carefully before breaking into a smile. "This is great." She turned to Clemont. "Can you make more of these? In different sizes?"

An easy breath was shared.

"More of them?" Clemont appeared surprised. "Do you have more than just that Purrloin?"

"Not yet, we don't," Leaf answered. "Whatever Paul told you—this week, I want to go public with it."

"Go public with the virus?" Ritchie inquired.

"Yes." Leaf nodded. "We're going to issue a public health warning and ask that people bring Pokemon showing symptoms to the nearest Pokémon Center. From there, one of our agents will pick up the Pokémon and bring it to the center in Opelucid, where we're currently set up to find a treatment and hopefully a cure. Containers like these could help; they'll help keep the infected Pokémon from hurting itself and protect our researchers and health care workers from getting infected."

"When did you come up with this plan?" Iris cast her an odd look.

"On the car ride home." Leaf shrugged.

"No SAMPLe?" Wallace inquired.

"No." Leaf shook her head.

"I'm presuming the meeting didn't go well then," he mused.

"Well, I think Iris put it best: We don't work with people whose selfishness puts the lives of Pokémon and people at risk," Leaf said. "I really have no idea how big this is going to be—how many infected Pokémon are going to come through our doors, since it's still our best guess how many times Houndoom or Purrloin sunk their teeth into another Pokémon—but we'll expand as necessary. We can bring in more G-Men agents or more nurses or doctors to help, since we have the Pokémon Center Network at our disposal." She paused, looking at Clemont again. "So?"

"So?" Clemont echoed her, unsure of she meant.

"Can you make more?" Leaf repeated her question from earlier.

"Oh! Oh yes, I can!" He nodded quickly. "I'd need to know what Pokémon I'm working with, but yes, this can adjusted for different sizes. And now that we've made one and know what we're doing, we can make them at a much faster."

"Great. We'll reimburse you with however much it cost to make this one, and pay for the rest," Leaf said. "And we'll compensate you for your efforts."

"Oh, that's not necessary," Clemont laughed nervously.

"_And_ we'll compensate you for your efforts," Leaf repeated the phrase again, unwilling to stand down. Cilan felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket, and he reached for it to check the caller ID. He raised his eyebrows and quietly slipped out of the room, which only Iris noticed.

"Burgundy?" he answered, picking up once he was in the hallway.

"_Cilan-_" She choked out his name.

"Burgundy, what's the matter?" he asked, immediately recognizing something was wrong.

"_We had just been talking—everything was fine, and we we were just talking, but then she said her chest hurt, and she passed out, and oh Mew-_" She spoke so frenetically that her words blended together.

"Burgundy, I don't understand what you're saying," Cilan said gently.

"S_he's dead—Karina's dead,_" she sobbed, finally getting to the point. Cilan drew in a sharp breath, and he replayed the words in his head, just to ensure they were what she truly said. He fell back against the wall, suddenly feeling ill. Iris stepped out of her office and saw him, and she perked up in alarm.

"Cilan... ?" she inquired in just above a whisper.

* * *

When Gary pushed through the doors to the back end of the Opelucid Pokémon Center, none of the Audino shuffling through the hallways appeared alarmed or even bothered to look up. His presence had now been accepted among them as normal, and allowed, with the forms he had brought to Nurse Joy earlier in the week. he proceeded down the passageway and smirked when he saw Bill and his grandfather ahead, conversing.

"Hey Bill! Gramps!" Gary called out to them, getting their attention.

"Gary," Bill greeted with a tacit smile. "It's good to see you."

"Thanks for coming," Gary told him when they met. "Sorry I was out; I went to see a rehabilitation facility that has some infected Pokémon, and I saw some... interesting things."

"We can get into that later," Professor Oak dismissed. "Gary, we ought to tell you: There's something wrong with Purrloin."

"Well, I think we've known that for a while," Gary said wryly.

"No, I mean, Purrloin's health has taken a turn for the worse," Oak clarified "She'll still react violently if we try to touch her, but she's far more lethargic, depressed even."

"_What?_" Gary let out a disbelieving breath. "When did this happen?"

"Just within the past hour," Oak answered. "It was so sudden—she was hissing at Bill and I, but then she stopped and lied down and hasn't been as responsive. Nurse Joy said she's exhibiting the same behavior Houndoom did before he died. She's planning to make an immunity boost to inject into her, but..."

"But what?" Gary pressed.

Professor Oak stepped back, sadly shaking his head.

"It's almost as if Purrloin has lost the will to live," he said.

.

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	19. XVIII: In Which Cilan Shows His Hand

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Chapter XVIII: In Which Cilan Shows His Hand

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_**September 7th, 2007. Noon. Opelucid City.**_

"Emolga—" Iris scowled as she batted the Electric-type away from a variety basket of berries. "—those are not for you. Cilan said those berries are good specifically for Dragon-types. You'll get your food soon."

Emolga glowered at her trainer and threw the berry back into the basket before plopping down besides Pansage on the counter top, folding her arms, and pouting. The word that the berries were intended for Dragon-types grabbed the attention of several of Iris's other Pokémon, and they began ambling her way. Haxorus was the first to reach her; he came up from behind Iris and lowered his head to gently nuzzle the back of her shoulder before letting out a hopeful whine.

"Cut it out, Haxorous," Iris told him as she pulled out several of the berries from the basket and placed them into the blender. Previously, she had been mashing mixes without the use of tech, but Cilan had insisted a blender's use would be easier and more efficient, so he bought her one: a pre-wedding gift for the both of them, he said. "You're going to have to wait, too."

She held down the the lid before she pressed the button to blend and was pleased when everything mixed together well within a short period of time. (She had once made the mistake of not securing the lid, and the result stressed Cilan out.) She removed the container and began scooping the berry blend into individual bowls already full of kibbles (a special brand for Dragon-types), while Pansage helped her by mixing the kibbles and blend together with a large spoon. While Cilan normally took charge on anything food-related, he needed to run some errands that morning, and she had to stay at the gym in case a challenger came by.

Iris felt something knock into the back of her knees, and she fell forward, catching herself on the edge of counter. A strand of her hair fell into the berry mix, and Iris made a face before glaring at the Zweilous behind her.

"Hey! I know you're hungry and I'm not as fast as Cilan, but that's just rude." She stopped to squeeze the berry mix out of her hair with her fingers and wash off in the sink. She then turned toward her Pokémon and placed her hands on her hips. "You know, you all could take note of the example Cilan's Pokémon—" She gestured toward Pansage on the counter, then to Crustle, Stunfisk, and several others lounging nearby. "—set. Pansage has been so helpful, and everyone else has waited so patiently. They didn't try to _steal_ or _beg_ for food."

Haxorus made a sheepish, apologetic sound; Emolga scoffed and looked away.

"And, also," Iris continued, collecting the next batch of berries, the ones Cilan had labeled as good for Ground-types, "Cilan and I are going to be together for _the rest of our lives_, which means you guys are gonna be with Cilan's Pokémon for the rest of your lives, too. Do you wanna look bad in front of them for that long?"

Some of her Pokémon mumbled in understanding, and Iris smiled as she pet Haxorus's head reassuringly before picking up her lunch duty again. Soon enough, she had all the necessary dishes made and laid out for her and Cilan's Pokémon, and they were happily enjoying themselves. Iris let out a long sigh as she leaned against the counter to catch her breath; she wasn't sure how Cilan managed to do this every day.

Iris perked up when she heard the front door open, signaling Cilan's return. He walked into the kitchen absolutely beaming, and Iris couldn't help but smile, too.

"Hey-" she began, but the rest of her words were lost against his lips as he picked her up and swung her around.

"Iris!" he exclaimed when he broke the kiss, though his arms were still tightly wound around her waist.

"Wow, did you get stuck in traffic behind the train tracks again, or what?" she laughed.

"Not this time," he said. "I have wonderful news."

"Oh really?"

"Two pieces of wonderful news, actually."

"Let's hear it, then." Iris managed to let herself down from his arms, and she pulled out one of the stools near the counter to sit.

"First—" Cilan retrieved a rectangular, leathery black box from inside his bag. "—our wedding rings came in." He opened it up, revealing the two simple white-gold bands inside. Iris let out a short breath and smiled tiredly.

"Well, that's one less thing to worry about," she said.

"Does it fit you?" Cilan inquired earnestly.

"Mm..." Iris pulled out the smaller of the two matching rings and slid it onto her finger, bringing it up against her engagement ring. "Yeah! It fits just fine."

"Good! That's a relief."

Iris nodded, agreeing. She quietly examined the rings on her fingers for a moment longer before pulling the wedding band off and returning it to its box. She laid her hand underneath Cilan's and closed the lid with a sigh.

"Is something wrong?" Cilan asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"No, I'm fine. I just..." Iris shook her head. "... can't believe we're getting married so soon."

Truthfully, she could hardly believe they were getting married at all. It wasn't even two years earlier that she started to grapple with the then-reality that Cilan would never allow their relationship to be anything more than platonic, given her unreciprocated affections and his obvious aversion to her impending responsibilities. Now, he was her fiancé, her soon-to-be husband. It was also strange because before she stopped kidding herself about being in love with him, she wouldn't have imagined herself getting tied up in marriage, especially to an eccentric city-born pain-in-the-neck.

Cilan smiled and pecked her again.

"Seventeen more days," he said. He laid the box on the counter.

"So, what's the rest of the good news?" Iris asked.

"Oh yes." Cilan beamed again. "While I was at the jeweler, I received an unexpected call from Gerard Poltiere, him saying he wanted to meet with me."

"Remind me who that is again?"

"He's the president of the PCA, and he was my mentor while I went through the S-Class program," he answered. "Anyway, he said he was on the Opelucid campus and that I should see him in his office there. He told me that one of S-Class Opelucid faculty members, Allana Sylvatica, is retiring at the end of the school year, leaving a position open on the teaching staff."

"Wait..." Iris soon broke into a grin herself.

"He said he knew you and I were getting married and that I would be relocating from Striaton City to here, so he thought I might be interested," Cilan excitedly went on. "I have my bachelor's and my S-Class rank, so the only thing I would need to do is receive certification to teach. He said DIL offers a semester-long course that prepares you to take the certification tests, and the next session doesn't begin until the spring, so you and I will have had our wedding and honeymoon by then, and we'll have had time to settle into living together."

"That's great, Cilan!"

"So you're okay with me doing this, then?"

"Of course I am," Iris replied. "You don't even need to ask."

"Well, I thought since you're going to be my wife come September 24th, it might be wise to consult you," Cilan explained.

"Sure, but I think you're supposed to support your spouse in what they do anyway, right?"

Cilan smiled weakly and rested a hand on her knee, looking down for a short while before lifting his gaze to hers again.

"Right," he said. "I'll enroll in the course, then." He rose up and turned away, but stopped when he remembered something. "Oh! I forgot to mention." Cilan faced Iris again. "You won't believe whom I ran into while on the Opelucid campus."

"Who?"

"Burgundy Myers," he replied. "Opelucid is apparently her main campus."

"Really? How's she doing?" Iris asked.

"All right," he answered. "We didn't talk for too long. I told her I had graduated and received my S-Rank, and that you and I were engaged, and she told me she was applying for the S-Class program at the end of the spring."

"Good for her," Iris commended. "Hey, if you get that teaching job, maybe you'll end up being her mentor in the S-Class program."

"Oh, I doubt that," Cilan said with a wave of his hand. "You're required to have your S-Class rank for three years before you can become a mentor. I'll barely be cracking one year if she gets accepted this spring. It's probably for the better; I don't imagine she would be too happy working under me."

"Yeah," Iris half-agreed as she rested her chin on her hand, "but then she might learn something."

_**July 1st, 2009. Morning. Opelucid City.**_

The silent sunlit ambiance of Iris's office was punctured only by the sound of the pendulum swing from Drayden's long-body clock. Leaf sat alone, her legs curled up on the chaise lounge, her eyes distant, indistinct. When the door opened, however, her gaze rapidly became focused again as she turned her head toward Iris. The Unova Champion had exchanged her usually colorful wardrobe for black.

"Are you going to the funeral?" Leaf asked.

"Yeah." Iris stepped forward, brushing her hands down her dress, over her forming baby bump. "I thought I should let you know, since the public health warning..."

"Our report is being released at noon," Leaf said. "You won't be needed. I don't mean offense by that. I'll be the only one here; Paul's still out of commission, Gary's down at the center, Wallace and Cynthia are off together somewhere, and the rest of you are going to the funeral. We're just going to hope the media does its job and gets the word out to the people, hopefully without bungling the information in their attempts to be the 'first' to break the news."

"What if they do?" Iris asked.

"We correct them, and they retract their errors and apologize," Leaf answered. "And when they come to us with questions, we answer them."

Iris nodded.

"Right." She shifted uncomfortably.

"Don't worry yourself too much," Leaf assured her. "We successfully made it to today without a leak; we have an organized system for collecting potential patients and testing them; we have several of the brightest minds in Pokémon research looking for a treatment. We're in a good position."

"It doesn't feel like a good position when there's a 13-year-old girl dead," Iris mumbled, "and others."

Leaf stared.

"You take care of Cilan, okay?" she eventually said, changing the subject.

"I will." Iris sounded resolved, but when she turned away, she stifled a groan. Leaf inclined her head.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

"Yeah," Iris replied tiredly, pushing her hands against her lower spine. "My back's just a little sore."

_**July 1st, 2009. Late morning. Lacunosa Town.**_

"I don't know if I can do this." Burgundy's voice trembled as she moved forward in the small church, through several other mourners. Wearing heeled shoes, she decided, was not a good idea for that morning; her feet felt heavier, and her balance was definitely off. Georgia must have noticed, because she linked arms with her friend, helping her keep stride.

"Well, we don't have to see the casket," Georgia reminded her. "We can just sit and wait for the service to start. All right?"

Burgundy nervously nodded.

"All right."'

Georgia started to guide her toward a pew—but before they could reach it, they heard a young voice from behind them call Burgundy's name.

"Ms. Myers?"

Burgundy stiffened. She, while trying to rebuild some emotional resilience, unraveled her arm from Georgia's and slowly turned to face the boy standing behind her.

"Hi, Phillip," she greeted.

She didn't know what else to say, and apparently, he didn't either. Cilan had canceled class yesterday and sent out an email informing them that one of their peers, Karina, had passed away. In it, he also gave the details to her funeral service, which he had undoubtedly passed along with the permission of her parents. Burgundy almost wished he hadn't, though; she wasn't prepared to face anyone in that class again, not yet—especially because she was supposed to be the adult, and she was supposed to be the one offering the students support.

None of them had been there when Karina died, though. Not even Cilan.

"It's really, um..." Phillip struggled for words. "... nice to see you here."

"How are you doing?" Burgundy asked.

Phillip shrugged.

"I mean..." He trailed off. "I don't know. Karina and I were pretty good friends." Burgundy didn't know how he wasn't crying, because she could feel her eyes beginning to sting. "Anyway, I don't know why I bothered you. I guess it's just nice, 'cause she liked you a lot." He paused, struggling with words again.

"Thank you, Phillip." Burgundy tried to maintain as even a tone as possible. "I'll see you in class tomorrow."

"Yeah," he mumbled before heading off on his own. Burgundy let out a shaky breath.

"That another student?" Georgia asked.

"Mhm," Burgundy intoned. Georgia frowned but perked up when she noticed some familiar faces further back than from where they stood.

"Hey." Georgia prodded Burgundy. "The power posse has arrived."

Burgundy looked where she pointed and saw that Iris, Trip, Cilan, and his two brothers had walked into the church. Cilan must have noticed them, too, because he gently touched Iris's shoulder, evidently telling her he would be a moment, before approaching. Burgundy straightened herself up.

"Good morning," he greeted solemnly, though amiably.

"Morning," Burgundy responded, more quietly. A sustained silence followed, and Georgia sucked in her breath.

"Yeah... I'm gonna leave you two alone for a bit," she said before heading off. Burgundy glowered at her, but soon flicked her eyes back to Cilan.

"Why are your brothers here?" she asked.

"The same reason Georgia's here for you," he tacitly replied. He paused before asking, "How are you holding up?"

"I have no words, honestly." It was, for her, the only conceivable way she could tell him she wasn't doing well without outwardly admitting it.

"Sometimes there aren't any," Cilan conceded. Burgundy averted her gaze, looking back toward Georgia, who had joined up with Iris and the others.

"Yeah." She swallowed the lump in her throat. "You think I would've found them by now, though. This isn't the first time I've attended a child's funeral."

"It isn't?"

"No." Burgundy shook her head then carefully, tiredly, raised her eyes toward him again. "I didn't know how to handle it then, either. But I guess it's worse this time, because it's actually real."

Cilan was unsure of how to interpret her look—but then he realized what she meant.

* * *

"So, how's Cilan been?" Cress gently asked, directing the question toward Iris. Although it was "safe" to broach the topic now that Cilan wasn't immediately present, Iris bit her lip, trying to figure out how to best respond. He had cried and hardly slept the night of her death, but Cress and the others didn't need to know that, and Cilan wouldn't want them to know.

"He's..." Iris tentatively began. "He's really upset, but he's mostly been quiet for the past couple of days."

"What about that Burgundy chick?" Chili flicked his head toward her.

"I don't know." Iris shook her head. "She and Cilan haven't really talked. This might be the first since she called him to tell him that... yeah."

"Well, I can answer that." Georgia folded her arms and slung her hip to the side. "Terrible, awful. I've never seen her this distraught."

"Can you really blame her, though?" Trip asked.

"I'm _not_ blaming her," Georgia retorted.

"Ms. Ajagara." Iris perked up and turned to see a tall, well-dressed man with thin blue eyes and sharply cut hair standing behind her.

"Hi-" Iris stopped short. The face was familiar, and she knew this was one of Cilan's colleagues, but she was drawing a blank on his name and importance.

"Hello, Mr. _Ricard Nouveau_." Cress graciously stepped in, filling Iris in. He then cast a look back at Georgia and Trip, adding, "This is Ricard Nouveau, an _S-Class_ and one of the _board members_ for the PCA." Iris shot him a quick, appreciative look after realizing what he was doing.

"Thank you for the introduction, Cress, but I was speaking with Ms. Ajagara, not you," Ricard said tersely. Cress stepped back with an indignant frown; Chili also appeared disgruntled, moreso than his brother.

"Hello, Mr. Nouveau," Iris replied.

"Where is your husband?" he inquired. "I half-expected to see him on your arm."

"Right here, Ricard." Cilan returned to the group, apparently realizing that Ricard had joined them. Burgundy was behind him, her arms drawn close to herself, as though she were trying to go unnoticed. "I did not expect to see you here."

"President Poltiere wanted someone from the PCA board to be here—to show support for the parents, grieve for one of our own," Ricard explained. "He would have come himself, but he had some other commitments at the Nimbasa campus, so I elected to come in his stead."

"Imagine that."

"I spoke with Marion and Joseph Valdis just now, actually," Ricard went on. "They told me something very interesting... that Karina had contracted the illness that led to her death from her Purrloin, which bit her during an observation session in one of your classes. One, I don't think, is in the standard curriculum, considering we typically don't ask students to bring their own Pokémon to class."

"Is this really the place?" Cress asked tiredly.

"It's just a courtesy warning," Ricard replied coolly, "that the board will likely probe into this incident." He inclined his head, managing to catch Burgundy's gaze behind Cilan. "So I would be prepared to answer questions." Cilan took a subtle sidestep, blocking her from Ricard's view again.

"Noted," Cilan said, disaffected.

Ricard nodded, then said, "We'll talk soon." He left them without a further word, and Burgundy bit her bottom lip.

"Don't mind him," Cress assured her, his eyes still warily following Ricard as he moved up into the crowd. "Ricard's an ass. The nerve of him—showing that kind of behavior at a service like this."

"Yeah, what I wouldn't give for a chance to crack that big nose of his," Chili seethed.

"That's enough, both of you," Cilan said, firm, though wearied. "We should sit. It's starting soon."

"Yeah..." Chili managed to calm himself and move forward. Trip and Cress soon followed. Iris's hand slid down her husband's spine until it settled into the small of his back, and they went ahead together. Georgia linked arms with Burgundy again and pulled her along, sliding into the pew beside Iris and Cilan. Somehow, he and Burgundy ended up sitting together.

Things grew quieter as people settled into their seats, although the strained, tearful gasps never died—Marion Valdis was crying—as long as you listened for them. When the organ music began, Burgundy felt something crack inside her; the mournful sound was a painful reminder that this was very real. She couldn't deny it, even if she wanted. She had seen it happen.

Burgundy lowered her head and hastily tried to wipe away the tears that begged escape. From the corner of her eye, she could see that Cilan had crumpled near Iris, trying to do the same thing as herself: hide.

_**July 1st, 2009. Late Morning. Opelucid City.**_

Leaf couldn't stand to be alone at the gym any longer.

With her hair pulled back and a touch of foundation beneath her eyes, she hoped to hide her weariness as she strutted through the automatic doors of the Opelucid Pokémon Center, her hands fitted inside the pockets of her dark, floral dress. She immediately headed toward the back of center and began winding through the hallways, trying to remember which was the correct direction; she had only been down to see Houndoom and Purrloin once each, both times with Gary.

She finally stopped when she heard familiar voices around the corner, and she peered down the way to see Ash and company speaking with her boyfriend and his research team.

"It works exceptionally well," Bill commended the group. "It's made everything easier for Nurse Joy and the rest of us."

"Good! I'm, uh, really glad to hear it," Clemont said with a nervous chuckle.

"I hope you're receiving compensation for the fine work you've done here, young man," Professor Oak added, "especially if you plan on making more if we start receiving other infected Pokémon."

"Leaf is planning on lining up some compensation," Gary informed them.

"That I am." Leaf appeared from behind the corner, approaching the group.

"Hey!" Ash greeted, though he looked unsure; he didn't know how Leaf would react to him being there. "Uh, good morning!"

"Good morning," Leaf replied amiably. She looked back at Gary. "How is Purrloin doing?"

"Her condition hasn't improved, but she hasn't gotten worse," Gary offered. "Nurse Joy keeps giving her immunity boosts; she's trying different combinations, but nothing's changed."

"Mmm," Leaf intoned. It wasn't what she wanted to hear.

"I mean, at the very least, if Purrloin..." Serena paused, struggling to find the right words. "... doesn't make it, then hopefully you'll be able to continue your studies through other Pokémon."

"I don't want us to take that mindset," Leaf said firmly, though not aggressively. "It's important to me that Purrloin lives."

"Why?" Misty asked.

"It's important to Cilan and Iris, and therefore important to me," Leaf replied. "I don't know if you heard, but Cilan's student, Karina Valdis, the owner of that Purrloin, died from sudden cardiac arrest on Saturday. Her funeral is going on right now."

"Yeah." Ash suddenly grew quiet, and the others' demeanors became similarly solemn. Pikachu folded his ears down and lowered his head. "We heard."

Leaf nodded slowly, understandingly, before continuing, "When Karina signed the forms to let us work with Purrloin, she said it was because she wanted Purrloin to be an important instrument in finding a cure to save other Pokémon and trainers. I'd like to respect the dying wish of a 13-year-old girl."

"Well, we're certainly doing everything we can," Bill said.

"There is a snag," Gary warned.

"What kind of snag?" Leaf asked tiredly.

"Nurse Joy's sister left this morning," Gary explained. "She had to return to... wherever she normally works, so we're down a health professional. Nurse Joy could use the help, as well as the second opinion."

"Well, then, we'll find someone else," Leaf said simply.

"Brock!" Ash unexpectedly blurted out.

"Excuse me?" Leaf cast him an odd look.

"Brock," Ash repeated. "_He_ could help."

"That's right," Ritchie said with realization in his eyes. "Brock's a fully fledged Pokémon Doctor now. Getting his perspective would be interesting anyway."

"Doesn't he have a job?" Leaf asked warily.

"He's actually volunteering at the Pewter City Pokémon Center and helping his family run the gym, so no," Misty answered.

"Well then," Leaf began with a resigning sigh, "I guess we ought to give Brock a call, then." She paused and checked the time on her phone. "... It's almost noon."

_**July 1st, 2009. Afternoon. Lacunosa Town.**_

"Thank you," Marion said tearfully, her hands shakily grasping Iris's. "Thank you for coming. We appreciate having the Unova Champion here."

Iris nodded sympathetically; her throat and chest felt tight, and she could hardly get the next few words out.

"I'm... I'm so sorry for your loss," she finally managed to say. The service had ended; the coffin, now closed, would soon be transported to the local cemetery to be lowered into the ground. Cilan and Burgundy had both opted out of attending the second ceremony. Cilan explained he felt it was a more private event, for close family and friends, and that he would be intruding. Burgundy hadn't offered any reasons.

"Just ensure that the G-Men's work with Purrloin saves others," Joseph said.

"I promise I'll do everything I can," Iris swore.

"Thank you to you, too, Cilan." Joseph said, turning to him next. "She loved Pokémon, and with her disability, she loved the opportunities the PCA gave her. She was lucky to have you and Ms. Myers as teachers."

Cilan inhaled slowly.

"She was a wonderful young lady," he said.

Joseph nodded then laid his hand on his shaking wife's shoulder.

"We should go," he said. "Please keep us updated on her Purrloin."

"We will," Iris assured him. The grieving ex-parents then parted, and their company was replaced by Georgia.

"It's noon," she informed Iris. "The report is out. I was scrolling through my newsfeed on my phone, and I saw some sites reporting breaking news, with details to come."

"Okay." Iris nodded before looking toward Cilan. "Are you ready to go, then?" She quickly realized, however, that Cilan's attention was elsewhere: Burgundy was sitting by herself on a high-rise stony planter; her dejection was evident in her expression.

"Oh man," Georgia sighed. "Let me talk to her."

"No," Cilan interjected. "She and I should talk."

"What do you want me to do then?" Georgia asked, splaying her hands.

"Take Iris and Trip back to Opelucid," Cilan suggested. "Leaf, I imagine, is about to get very stressed out, and you should all be there to support each other."

Georgia pursed her lips, but with a resigning sigh, said, "Fine." She turned to leave, and Iris looked back at her husband.

"What about you?" she inquired.

"I'm sure both Chili and Cress would be willing to take me back to Opelucid," Cilan said. "We'll take Burgundy with us."

Iris wrung her hands together, but nodded, saying, "Okay. I'll see you later." She reached up and touched his jawline, indicating he should lean down and kiss her, which he did. When they parted, her hand traveled from his neck down his arm, until she could grasp his hand and give him a quick, reassuring squeeze. When she left to follow Georgia, Cilan turned toward Burgundy.

She didn't look up when he sat beside her. The greatest reaction received was a brief flick of her gaze toward him, an acknowledgement that she could see him there. They sat in silence for a short while before one of them finally spoke.

"Funerals for children are so fucking sad," Burgundy muttered bitterly, not caring about her language. If Cilan could say it in front of her, then he could owe her one. "I've gone to other funerals before—grandparents, old family friends—and they're not nearly as miserable as this. They're 'celebrations of life!' Karina barely lived. It's not fair."

"It's not," Cilan tacitly agreed.

Burgundy let out a short breath and wiped away her tears with the heel of her palm.

"We're going to have to address it in class tomorrow, aren't we?" she asked.

"Yes." Cilan nodded. Burgundy dropped her hand.

"Phillip was here," she mentioned.

"I was expecting some students would come," Cilan admitted.

"... What are we going to say?" she asked, her voice now barely above a whisper.

"You don't have to worry about say anything. I'll take care of it," Cilan assured her. "And don't worry about Ricard either."

"Well, I worry," Burgundy mumbled. "He's made it clear he wants me expelled, and he'll look for any excuse to justify it happening."

"It's not going to happen over this," Cilan asserted. "It's my fault. I'd feel terrible if you were expelled. I already feel terrible that you're in this situation at all."

"Why?" Burgundy gave him an odd look. Cilan paused. He averted his gaze from hers and folded his hands, laying them in his lap.

"... I have a bit of a confession to make," he started hesitantly.

"What's that?"

Cilan took in a deep breath.

"I'm the reason that this is happening to you."

_**March 4th, 2009. Late Morning. Opelucid City.**_

Cilan yawned and pressed his hands to his eyes; it had been another long night, the third that week, and there was no sign the string of 2 a.m. stints would end anytime soon. Iris was in distress, reasonably so, and it was proving to be hard on both of them.

Class was over, and he was back in his office, packing up to return home. Just as he was slipping his binder into his bag, however, there came a knock at his half-open door. Cilan looked up, expecting to see a student. Instead, there stood his colleague, Melissa Betula, an experienced and esteemed S-Class Connoisseuse who taught the same section as him.

"Melissa," Cilan acknowledged her amiably, rising to his feet. "What bring you here?"

"Hello, Cilan." She flashed him a weak smile. "May I ask you for a favor?"

"Certainly."

"My 11-year-old daughter called me from a Pokémon Center in Driftveil City," Melissa explained. "She's been throwing up all morning. I think she might have the flu. I want to drive out there and take her home, but I'm supposed to go to a board meeting in a half-hour. Would you be willing to go in my stead?"

"In your stead?" Cilan drew back in surprise.

"I normally wouldn't ask," Melissa sheepishly admitted, "but my ex-husband can't go pick her up, seeing as he's currently abroad in Kalos. The board's rules require there be at least one professor representing each of the classes. Since you teach C-Classes, too, you could easily take my place." She hesitated before adding, "Of course, I understand if Iris wants you home."

"No, no, it's fine," Cilan reassured her. "Iris will understand. I'll just—" Cilan stopped short. He was about to say he would text her to let her know he would be home later than usual, but he knew she wouldn't see it. "She'll understand."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course," Cilan insisted.

"Thank you—thank you." Melissa appeared relieved. "I promise there's nothing at the meeting that will require your close attention. It's mostly about approving the list of students for the S-Class program next semester. You don't have to even say anything; you can just be there."

"Will President Poltiere be all right with that?" Cilan asked. "I'm not a board member."

"I'm sure he will be," Melissa replied. "I'll let him know in advance, but he likes you an awful lot."

Cilan slowly nodded.

"Okay," he said.

"It's in the conference room outside Poltiere's office," Melissa told him. "Like I said, it starts in a half-hour."

"I won't be late."

"Thank you again," Melissa said sincerely.

"It's no issue," Cilan politely dismissed. "Please, send your daughter my best wishes."

"I will." Melissa stepped back, out of his office. "Good luck."

* * *

Twenty minutes into the meeting, Cilan's attention to what was being said was tenuous at best. Melissa was correct in saying the meeting wouldn't be at all relevant to the C-Class students he was supposedly representing, and Cilan had resigned to mimicking his colleague's behavior. Many were presently taking notes on what Connor Blanc, another S-Class, was saying, so Cilan was jotting down some things himself—namely, a few talking points that would potentially convince Iris to see a therapist.

"Thank you for the update on the program changes," Poltiere eventually said, nodding to Connor, who thanked him and drew back in his chair. Poltiere turned an eye toward Ricard next. "Mr. Nouveau, would you be willing to tell us about next semester's potential roster of S-Class candidates?"

"It would be my pleasure." Ricard straightened up after locating the notes he prepared for the meeting. "Happily, our number of applicants grew again this term. We received thirty-seven applications, and we've marked thirty-three for acceptance and are working to match them up with mentors. We plan on sending the letters in two weeks, once we've approved the roster and cleared our mentorships."

"Well, let's approve the roster now, then." Poltiere flicked over his wrist to check his watch. "My wife will be expecting me soon."

"Of course, President Poltiere," Ricard said graciously. "We'll make this process as quick as possible. If you look in the yellow folders I've prepared for each of you, you'll find a short summary of each applicant—their number of years in the association, their GPA, any degrees from outside institutions, special training or certification received through the PCA, among other details. The candidates whom I and Connor felt were ready for the program, and whom mentors were willing to take on as students, are highlighted in yellow. Please feel free to browse through the packet and ask any questions. We can vote in several minutes."

The sounds of shuffling paper filled the air, and Cilan, following suit, opened up his own folder and pulled out the packet. He flipped through several pages, scanning through some of the applicants' names and qualifications, if for no other reason than pure curiosity. He didn't think he would know anyone applying, at least not well, but when he turned another page, a name jumped out at him.

"Oh dear," and aged S-Class, Alexander Clemens, remarked. "Why isn't Sean Aaron's name highlighted? I had him as a B-Class, and he was a wonderful student..."

"Under normal circumstances, Mr. Aaron certainly would have made the program this semester, but due to some familial issues, his grades this most recent semester suffered," Connor explained. "Rest assured, when Sean recovers and applies next semester, he'll be at the top of the list."

"Ah, I see..." Alexander nodded before laying the packet down. Cilan waited in silence for a while as he stared intensely at the name before him. He flipped several more pages ahead, skimming through the other applications, before returning to the first that caught his attention and leaning back in his chair with a frown.

"Well, if that's all, then we should prepare to take a vote to-" Ricard began.

"-Why isn't Burgundy Myers's name highlighted?" Cilan interjected, making himself heard for the first time in the meeting. His question drew many bewildered looks from his colleagues, surprised that he—a young, comparatively naïve S-Class who _wasn't_ a board member—would have the temerity to speak out of turn. Ricard looked especially bemused, though Poltiere appeared completely unperturbed.

"Excuse me?" Ricard raised his eyebrows.

"I know this is her third time applying," Cilan elaborated. "I'm wondering why in the world we're rejecting her for the third time in a row if she has a 3.5 GPA, a degree in Liberal Sciences from DIL, and has taken multiple extra classes through the PCA to undoubtedly strengthen her academic résumé after two rejections."

"Unfortunately, there are excellent applicants who aren't accepted because their fellow candidates are cut above them," Ricard said. "It seems Ms. Myers has simply fallen upon bad luck."

Cilan appeared entirely unconvinced.

"Bad luck?" he repeated doubtfully. He flipped forward several pages and pointed to a different name. "Here, Jamie Williams's name is highlighted, and he has a 3.4 GPA and no degree. I mean no insult to Mr. Williams, but that's not a cut above Ms. Myers."

"It is also dependent upon the willingness of mentors," Connor added. Cilan cast him a disbelieving look before shaking his head.

"This always happens," Cilan half-mumbled.

"What always happens?" Ricard questioned.

"Perfectly capable young female candidates never reach higher ranks because mentors are more inclined to take on young capable men—sometimes less capable, in fact," Cilan answered plainly, prompting an indignant expression to cross Ricard's face.

"That's ridiculous," Ricard scoffed.

"Is it?" Cilan pressed. "I don't have any exact numbers, but just a simple visual headcount in my or Melissa's classroom shows that we have about an even amount of young men and young women entering the PCA as C-Class students. Yet, once they start climbing the ranks, the gender gap starts to widen. That should concern us. It certainly concerns me, as I would like to see my young female C-Class students have equal chance to their male peers of one day becoming an S-Class."

"You sank your own argument, Mr. Griffith," Ricard retorted. "Like you said, there are no numbers."

"I'll offer you some right now: There are twelve people in this room, and not one is a connoisseuse. Of course, I understand Ms. Betula is normally a participant in these meetings, but a one-to-twelve ratio is nothing noteworthy," Cilan replied, managing to keep a cool head about him, though his tone was firm. "I _know_ we're losing qualified young women who become so disheartened by multiple rejections that they stop trying to climb the ranks."

"Everyone faces rejections," Ricard dismissed. "Perhaps this isn't a problem of bias, but young girls not having the emotional fortitude to handle the rejections that come."

_That_ remark incited Cilan's worse emotions.

"That's-" he began, trying to suppress his inward seething, but Ricard cut him off.

"-And who are you to talk about qualifications and complain about how unfair it is that mentors pick favorites?" Ricard continued. "Were you not once like Jamie Williams, 18 and degree-less, and nevertheless accepted into the S-Class program because a mentor favored you?" He then added, more flippantly, "Of course, it seems both you and your wife enjoy the benefits of attaining honors you don't necessarily deserve, considering she's a gym leader who's been nominated for Champion."

"That's enough, Ricard." Poltiere finally stepped in. "We do not bring the spouses of our colleagues into arguments."

Ricard quickly attempted to compose himself.

"Of course, Mr. Poltiere," he said. "My apologies."

Poltiere sighed, closed his eyes, and leaned back in his chair, thinking. The rest of the board waited in silence for his word on the matter, and they straightened up when he opened his eyes again and inclined his head toward Cilan.

"You do bring up an intriguing point, Mr. Griffith," he said. "I would be interested in hearing more justification from both Mr. Nouveau and Mr. Blanc as to why Ms. Myers isn't ready for the S-Class program yet, if there is any aside from lack of mentor availability."

Both Ricard and Connor appeared immensely flustered. Ricard reached into his bag, beginning to nervously dig through it.

"Well—well," Ricard stammered, pulling out his binder. "Here, I have her full application and record here." He opened up the binder and began flipping through the pages. "I'm sure there was some reason Mr. Blanc and I decided she wasn't—" He stopped short once he landed on her record. He was silent for a brief moment as his eyes scanned the page. Then, he cracked a relieved smile. "Ah, yes. Here it is. Here is our reason. Ms. Myers has a history of breaking the PCA's rules, unfortunately."

"W-What?" Cilan was caught off guard.

"She has a glaring blemish on her record," Ricard said coolly, happy he had now found his excuse. "A complaint was filed against her for impersonating an S-Class Connoisseur as a C-Class while at a PokéMart in Castelia City."

Cilan felt his heart, now as heavy as a stone, drop into the pit of his stomach.

"That was... that was _eight years ago_," Cilan protested.

"How would you know that, Mr. Griffith?" Connor inquired.

Cilan's mouth was dry. He swallowed and tried to wet his lips.

"Because I filed that report," he admitted. A short silence followed, and Ricard frowned, unwilling to let this get away from him again.

"And you would now defend her?" Alexander asked.

"I would certainly not withhold acceptance to the S-Class program for a mistake made nearly a decade ago," Cilan answered.

"A mistake?" Ricard feigned offense. "Impersonation of an S-Class is one of the most grave offenses in the association. It debases the years of hard work we S-Classes put into our craft; it's a disservice to the trainers and the Pokémon we serve; it muddies the esteemed name of our association. In fact, if I remember correctly, it's a 'mistake' worthy of expulsion."

Cilan let out a shaky breath.

"Now hang on-" he began, but he was soon cut off.

"-This is an outrage, Mr. Poltiere," Ricard appealed to their president, "especially since it appears she never received proper discipline for her offense. Wouldn't you agree?"

"It _is_ concerning," Poltiere conceded.

"Then I would like to make a motion to expel-"

"-No," Cilan interrupted him, more frantic. "No, no. You can't do this, not without at least giving her the chance to defend herself." Ricard appeared disgruntled, but Poltiere soon spoke again.

"I would agree, Ricard," he said. "Let's not be too hasty about this."

"What is your directive then, Mr. Poltiere?" Jonathon Riesling inquired. Poltiere furrowed his eyebrows and stroked his beard, giving the issue some thought.

"Impersonation of an S-Class _can_ warrant as serious a punishment as expulsion," he eventually said. "However, given that the offense occurred eight years ago, and that Ms. Myers has evidently since been a good student, I don't think it's entirely judicious. Should this have been properly addressed at the time the complaint was filed, it would seem like a more reasonable option."

"Do we truly know she's been a good student since then, though?" Ricard pressed. "A GPA is a number that measures academic industry, not character."

"True."

"Burgundy's a wonderful young women and would be a great S-Class candidate," Cilan asserted.

"I do find it interesting you're willing to vouch for her when you were the one who filed the complaint," Poltiere mused. "I do commend you. However, I cannot easily let this go. I think it would be wise to have her appear in front of the board and—like you said, Mr. Griffith—give her the chance to defend herself. Until that time, we'll withhold acceptance into the program, and her status regarding her continued tenure within the PCA is pending."

Cilan sucked in his breath. She had a chance, still. Ricard wasn't wholly satisfied, but he still managed to wear a smirk.

"What will we do with her in the meantime?" Jonathon asked.

"We'll give Mr. Griffith the opportunity to work with her," Poltiere said simply with a resolved nod. "She'll finish up her classes this semester, and she can join Mr. Griffith as his TA in the summer." Poltiere then looked Cilan directly in the eye. "If you're willing to stand by this young woman and say she is worthy of joining the S-Class program and, eventually, our ranks of S-Class Connoisseurs, then I hope you're also willing to spend this summer evaluating her character and preparing her to stand in front of the board and convince us she's worthy of being an S-Class and being in this association."

_**July 1st, 2009. Noon. Lacunosa Town.**_

The bathroom door flew open, and Burgundy stumbled inside and threw herself against the sink with a sob. She had been holding back all morning, but now there was nothing left to dam the sewage of emotions—of grief, of anger—from spilling forward. She furiously grasped the edges of the sink as she cried but gasped in a quick breath of air, wanting to recompose herself. After some time, she looked up at herself in the mirror. No mascara was running; she had, at least, had the wisdom not to wear any that morning, knowing where she was going.

She wiped away her tears and hung her head again; yet, out of the corner of her eye, she could see the bathroom door open again in the reflection.

"Yo."

Burgundy growled under her breath and spun on her heel to face Chili.

"Excuse me, this is the _girls'_ bathroom," she snarled.

"Yeah, which is exactly why I knew you'd be in here." Chili shrugged. "Girls go into bathrooms to get away from boys who are too weak to go into girls' bathrooms. Like Cilan."

Burgundy made an annoyed noise and turned away again.

"Did he send you in here?" she asked a little sharply.

"Not in here, specifically," Chili answered. "But he told us you got really upset and ran off, and he couldn't find you."

"There's a reason for that," Burgundy mumbled.

"Uh-huh." Chili then sighed, adding more seriously, sincerely, "I'm really sorry. It's terrible what's happened. But, remember that Cilan's just as torn up by this as you are. She was his student, too."

Karina was only half the reason Burgundy was upset then, but his remark, for some reason, caused her temper to snap. She clenched her fists, laying them on the edges of the sink as she whipped her head back toward him.

"No. Don't tell me that," Burgundy said firmly, her voice dangerously low. "This may hurt for Cilan, but it will _never_ come close to affecting him as much as its affected me."

Silence followed. Chili's eyes had widened slightly, and he appeared unsure of what to say. Then, his gaze softened, if only a little.

"You two should talk," he said.

"We just did."

"Well, obviously, you still have some unresolved issues that need to be worked out, so you should talk again."

"What do you care?" Burgundy asked, exasperated.

"I'll admit, I feel sorry for you," Chili said. "A lot of people do—Cress, Iris, Trip, Georgia—and we want to see it get better. But I'm thinking about Cilan, and how this is eating him up inside, and how you two need to sort out whatever bullshit baggage you're still carrying from ten years ago, so that it actually can get better."

Burgundy huffed.

"Look, Chocolate-"

"-Chili."

"Whatever." Burgundy shook her head. "I don't want to talk to Cilan right now. I can't even stand to see him right now. Just..." She stopped, considering what to say. "... tell him I'll be in class tomorrow. And that I would prefer if he never talked to me about anything unrelated to class again."

Chili stared at her tiredly, his arms folded.

"All right," he said with a resigning sigh. "We are your ride home, though."

"What?" Burgundy have him an odd look.

"Georgia left with Trip and Iris, after Cilan convinced them to go," Chili explained in short. Burgundy closed her eyes and leaned her head back; she didn't want to deal with this. She couldn't.

"Georgia didn't take me here. I drove myself," she said after a while.

"... Fine." Although Chili could see straight through her lie, he decided it wasn't worth getting into. He turned toward the door, pulling on the handle, but he stopped when it was mid-way open. "Hey—" He looked back at her. "—I really am sorry."

Burgundy was no less upset.

"Just leave," she said, looking away. He did, and Burgundy sighed before rubbing her eyes and pulling out her phone. She intended to call for a cab before angrily texting Georgia; yet, when she unlocked her screen, her newsfeed became cluttered with strings of articles about a virus outbreak.

_**July 1st, 2009. Noon. Opelucid City.**_

"_If you're joining us for the first time this hour, the G-Men have just now issued a public health warning in Unova about a virus that can affect both people and Pokémon, apparently turning Pokémon violent and causing them to attack their trainers or other Pokémon. Our news team is still sifting through the twenty-two-page report, but what what know so far_-"

"Of course they haven't read the entire thing yet," Leaf scoffed indignantly. "Of course."

She stood among Ash and company, their eyes tilted up toward a small television mounted on the wall in the back end of the Opelucid Pokémon Center.

"Did you expect anything else?" Gary questioned her.

"No," Leaf sighed. "But I still hoped for something better."

Ash frowned and cast her a sympathetic look. Leaf unraveled her folded arms and dropped them to her side; she was done watching. She turned and headed in the opposite direction, but stopped when she felt a vibration in her back pocket. She pulled out her phone and was surprised (perhaps more than surprised) to see a text message from Iris of all people:

'georgia trip and i are on our way back to opelucid. we're listening to everything on the radio. how are you doing down there?'

* * *

"Paul?" Reggie appeared in the living room, where Paul sat on one of the sofas with a book in his hand and Weavile on his lap. "The news is reporting on that virus you talked about."

"Yeah?" Paul didn't sound surprised.

"The media is questioning whether it's connected to Torterra," Reggie added.

Paul didn't flinch. He stayed silent for a moment, his expression remaining stoic as he turned another page. It was evident he didn't plan on moving, or on watching the report.

"It is."

* * *

"Hey, Drew?" Zoey tapped Drew on the shoulder, and he, previously engrossed in his work, pulled one of the earbuds from his headphones out and turned in his chair to face her. "You should come see this. The G-Men released their public health warning, and we're watching PNN's report."

"Oh." Drew balked at the thought, but rose up and followed her toward the television, where much of the staff was gathering. He stood behind May, who was sitting on the sofa, though his eyes quickly became drawn toward the screen.

"_The G-Men report lists several symptoms of the virus for both humans and Pokémon,_" Brian Shriver said. "_Pokémon will begin showing aggressive behavior one to two days after infection, while humans will fall ill in the same time frame. One to two weeks after infection, hair or fur may begin to thin; bruise-like skin abnormalities may appear; additionally, the eyes may show slight purple discoloration_."

Drew mentally stumbled when Shriver mentioned the "bruise-like skin abnormalities."

"_If a Pokémon is showing any of these symptoms, the G-Men asks that it be taken to the nearest Pokémon Center, where it will be picked up by an agent and tested for the virus,_" the anchor went on. "_If you, yourself, are showing symptoms, the G-Men recommends checking yourself into the hospital._"

"May..." Drew began slowly. "Did that Purrloin have the purple abnormalities on his skin?"

"Um..." May strained to remember. "Yeah. I didn't notice them until Paul pointed them out to me. They looked kind of like bruises."

_Like I said, Mr. Hayden; it's a bruise._

Olivia's words echoed in his mind, and Drew suddenly felt sick to his stomach. He swallowed before turning away, excusing himself. May perked up in alarm and watched him go, and it wasn't long before she followed. He was headed to the bathroom.

She found him bent over the sink, his elbows resting on the edges, while his hands were pressed to his temples. It was obvious he was in distress, and it worried May, since it seemed to happen so suddenly.

"Drew, what's the matter?" she asked urgently. "Tell me."

"Nothing. I just..." Drew shook his head, but his eyes were still closed, and he was still bowed over the sink. "... got a migraine all of a sudden, that's all."

May frowned and shifted her weight to her right hip.

"Go home, okay?" she said.

"I'll be fine, May." Drew slowly straightened up again. "I just need some time."

"No," May said gently, though firmly as she approached him, laying her hand on his lower back. "Drew, I know you're not sleeping again. Please just go home and try to get some rest. I'll take care of things for the rest of the day here."

Drew stared at her for a while; the bags under his eyes were quite pronounced, and there was nothing he could do to hide them. Eventually, he nodded.

"All right," he agreed.

"You should also see if you can set up an appointment with a doctor here," May suggested. "You should get your prescription renewed."

Drew nodded again.

"... Noted."

_**July 1st, 2009. Afternoon. Unknown Location.**_

A frown had etched itself in Elijah Colress's expression as he walked straight down the hallway, his thumb on the screen of his phone as he scrolled through yet another article about the G-Men's public health warning. He had been become so wrapped up in the news item that he didn't notice Aldith stalking toward him from the opposite direction until she grabbed him by his shoulders and shoved him into the wall.

"I thought you said this would work!" Aldith roared; her entire body was quaking with anger. Colress let out a sigh and recomposed himself, straightening his skewed glasses.

"Come now, Aldith," he said. "There's no need to resort to violence."

"I agree." Ghetsis suddenly appeared in a nearby doorway, apparently having heard the commotion. "Calm down, Aldith."

"Well, excuse me if I'm pissed," she threw back. "My brother is in jail. He believed in this—we believed in this—but with the way things are happening, he's going to rot there. The G-Men are taking the lead on this virus thing, and if they succeed in finding that cure and come out as heroes, then all our plans crash and burn. Let me tell you, I am _this_ close to taking Annie and Oakley up on their offer to break Barret out."

"That would not be prudent, Aldith," Ghetsis warned.

"And why not?" Aldith demanded. "Annie and Oakley have done that type of thing before, and they can do it again."

"Annie and Oakley are too valuable to lose should they be caught, and even if they successfully escape with Barret, Leaf Greene will have every G-Men agent in the country out looking for him," Colress elaborated. "We do not want to be found."

Aldith exchanged angry glances between him and Ghetsis.

"You said," Aldith began, addressing Colress; her voice was shaking, "that if Barret fired that shot, it would send Iris into our arms and make her fund that stupid project. It's been two months, and we haven't seen a dime, and we won't see a dime, because you royally screwed up when Iris and Leaf came to SAMPLe's office on Saturday."

"I will not deny that I lost my temper, and that it cost us," Colress said calmly. "However, the situation is amendable. We simply need to adjust our approach."

"What are your suggestions?" Ghetsis asked.

Colress paused.

"I believe we need to bring N off the sidelines," he finally answered.

_**July 1st, 2009. Afternoon. Opelucid City.**_

Absol happily greeted Drew at the door when he slid into his apartment, where the warm, mid-afternoon sunlight was casting itself through the empty spaces between the closed blinds in the living room. Drew smiled weakly at his Pokémon and laid a tired hand on his head.

"... Hey," Drew said, petting him. He soon headed back into the bedroom, but rather than dressing himself in something more comfortable for sleep, he pulled his laptop out of his bag and booted it up. He waited for his wi-fi to connect before pulling up a new browser.

Before he could continue, however, he heard his cell phone's ringer go off. He plucked the device out of his bag to read the message from May:

'Call (860)-555-7342. It's a doctor's office that's less than a mile away from our apartment.'

Drew stared at the words for a while before gently laying his phone down on the sheets and returning his attention to his laptop.

"Let's see what the hell you really are," Drew mumbled to himself as he typed "SAMPLe" in a search engine.

_**July 1st, 2009. Afternoon. Unknown Location.**_

"You poor thing," N lamented, cradling a Glaceon in his arms. His thumb hovered over the Ice-type's paw, the middle pad of which had a small puncture wound. "How could your trainer be so cruel to you?"

He sat with his sisters in his room, among many other Pokémon with similar injuries. Ghetsis had brought them to him, saying some Team Plasma members had rescued them from cruel trainers. Concordia and Anthea were also holding a couple of the tortured Pokémon in their arms, though Concordia, in particular, looked differently troubled than her adoptive siblings.

"It's beyond me why any normal trainer would do this to their Pokémon," Concordia remarked, gently tracing her finger around the tiny hole in Deino's foot. "Trainers want their Pokémon to be strong, so they can win. This would produce the opposite effect. This must be the result of some type of experiment."

"What are you insinuating, Concordia?" Anthea asked.

Concordia shook her head.

"Nothing, I suppose," she said.

"I doubt we'll ever fully understand trainers," N said. "Depravity cannot be understood."

"N."

N snapped his head up to see Ghetsis's backlit form standing in the doorway.

"Hello, father." N gently eased Glaceon down and rose to his feet. "What brings you here?"

"Come speak with me for a moment." Ghetsis beckoned that he should come. N appeared confused but nodded as he went to his father's side. Ghetsis shut the door, closing out both Anthea and Concordia.

"Is something the matter?" N inquired.

"You have an important mission ahead of you," Ghetsis said simply, though firmly.

"A mission?" N drew back in surprise. "What mission?"

"We are setting forth our plans to bring down the league and G-Men," Ghetsis elaborated. "And you are going to help us do it."

_**July 1st, 2009. Evening. Opelucid City.**_

Cilan was now relying on distractions. Yet, the things that had once given him great pleasure did little to ease his troubled mind; every time he tried to engage himself in some type of hobby, his thoughts would begin to wander, and his grieving heart would ache again. Iris found him sitting upright on one of the living room sofas, scrolling through various recipes he had yet to try on his PokéPad, marking a couple favorites.

"Hey." Iris gently touched the back of his shoulder as she approached from behind, then rounded the armrest to stand in front of him. The words "Are you okay?" were on her tongue, but she swallowed them. She already knew the answer, and it would be in Cilan's polite nature to tell her he was fine. She decided to go with, "I'm sorry, again."

Cilan sighed and closed his PokéPad.

"Tomorrow will be better," was all he said.

"How did the conversation with Burgundy go?" Iris asked hopefully.

"Not well, unfortunately."

Iris frowned.

"You know, I—" She paused, pushing some hair out of her own face. "—I've always teased you about being a connoisseur, but sometimes, I sure wish I had the vocabulary of one. Then I might know what to say to you."

"There might not be anything you can say," Cilan said. "Words fail even us at times. Your presence is enough."

Iris smiled weakly and brushed her fingers through his hair before embracing him—him still sitting, her still standing—pressing his head against the area directly below her sternum. He soon wrapped his arms around her waist, and he let her hold him for a while; yet, when his grip unexpectedly tightened, she suppressed a pained breath. Despite her best efforts, Cilan still heard.

"Are you okay?" he asked, pulling back.

"Yeah..." she mumbled.

"Is your back still sore?"

"Mhm," Iris hummed, letting go of him to press her hands against her lower spine again. "It's not a big deal."

"We should take you to a doctor," Cilan urged.

"I don't want to see a doctor."

"Iris, remember what Leaf told you," Cilan gently reminded her. "I know you pride yourself on the methods of care taught to you, but you need to see doctors sometimes."

"... Fine," she said, giving in. "I'll look for some openings tomorrow morning."

"Good." He grasped her hand and pressed his lips against her knuckles; the brush of her cool wedding rings burned against his skin. When he pulled back, he raised his own hand to her lower abdomen, and Iris laid her kissed fingers atop his.

* * *

Drew looked half-dead by the time May returned to their apartment that evening. He was sitting alone on their bed, his legs crossed, his computer on his lap, and though his gaze was intense and focused, his skin was clammy and his hair was dull. He looked worse now than he did when he left the office.

"Drew?" May inquired, dropping her bag onto their desk.

"May," Drew acknowledged her, snapping his head up. "Do you know what SAMPLe stands for?"

"N... No?" May looked confused. "Did you sleep at all while I was at the office?"

"Stopping Abuse and Motivating Pokémon Liberation," Drew said, ignoring her question.

"Drew, what does SAMPLe have to do with anything?" she asked, sounding both exasperated and worried. Drew stared at her for a while, watching for a change in her expression—a sign of dawning realization, of connections made—but nothing happened, as she continued to look back at him with a concerned crease in her brow.

"Nothing." Drew abruptly shut his laptop. May frowned.

"I'm going to order some pizza," she said. "And after we finish eating, you should really go to bed."

"... Yeah," Drew mumbled, averting his eyes elsewhere.

* * *

It was years before Iris understood how close she was to death, once.

The night spent in the high mountains between her two homes—between the Village of Dragons and Opelucid City—was not one she thought of often. In fact, she had dedicated most of her life to suppressing the memories, and she had experienced minor success now that she was more than sixteen years removed from that fateful snowstorm on December 21st, 1992. It hadn't been without its hiccups, though.

Years ago—long before Cilan had fallen in love with her, though she couldn't say the same for herself—they had been standing together outside the Striaton Gym with his brothers, hours after the restaurant had closed, to watch the winter's first snowfall. She was bundled up in her warmest clothes, standing close to Cilan, perhaps suspiciously so, but his presence gave her the reassurance she needed, whether he knew it or not (and he probably didn't, or only had some vague idea). She had only stepped out with him and the other Griffith brothers upon Chili's insistence, mainly because she was unwilling and too embarrassed to explain the depth of her aversion to the weather.

"You know, they're saying this is going to be a particularly cold winter," Chili had remarked, gazing up at the falling snowflakes.

"Not as cold as '02, I'd imagine," Cress mused.

"I doubt it will be as cold as then for a while," Cilan said.

"Yeah, yeah..." Chili waved his hand dismissively. "Still, you hear about that trainer who froze while trying to travel on foot up to Snowpoint in Sinnoh last week? Really sad, but still..."

Iris let out a shaky breath, white mist emerging from her mouth, as she drew her arms around herself and looked away. Cilan cast her a quick, careful glance. He remembered, of course, the panic attack she'd had while they were traveling the same route only several years earlier.

"Tragic," Cress agreed. "Freezing to death—what a terrible way to die."

"Mhm," Chili intoned. "Although, I've heard that when you freeze to death, right before you die, you suddenly feel very warm—like there's a fire burning inside you, before it goes out completely."

The stony walls Iris had thrown up within her mind began to crack, and memories—bad ones—started to rush through.

"Chili, don't be so morbid," Cress chastised, though both he and his red-haired brother were unaware of Iris's condition. She finally crumbled, her breath turning labored as she looked for an out. She turned on her heel and quickly headed back into the gym, escaping the notice of Cilan's two brothers, but not Cilan himself. He whipped his head around and soon followed her.

"Iris?" he inquired worriedly when he found her inside, turned away from him as she clutched her lower abdomen and tried to catch her breath.

"I'm sorry—I'm sorry," Iris repeated the words hurriedly, though she tried to maintain as even a tone as possible. "I just need a moment. I'll be with you guys again soon."

"What's the matter?" Cilan pressed. "Is this about the Snowpoint trainer?" Iris's hands trembled and she swallowed before quickly turning to face him again.

"My parents froze to death," she blurted out suddenly, "and I almost did, too."

She had never told him before.

She could remember, though, the feeling Chili had described, whilst she was pressed between her parents' bodies in the midst on of an unnatural snowstorm caused by the Legendary Kyurem. She wasn't sure if her parents' flames had burned out by then or not—she didn't want to know—but hers was still burning, and the heat sustained her long enough to keep screaming for help until it finally came, just as her voice was going hoarse.

"_Madad! Madad!_" Iris shot up in bed, her words echoing throughout the darkness in her bedroom. The heat was still with her, except it had fallen from her chest and congregated between her legs. She let out a few heavy breaths and shifted uncomfortably before moving her hand down.

"Iris..." Cilan sat up with her, having been awoken by her outburst. His hot breath slid over her shoulder before he tenderly kissed it. "Iris, it was just another bad dream. Go back to sleep."

"Cilan," Iris breathed his name in horror.

"Mm?" He pulled back.

"Cilan, I'm bleeding," she said, her voice shaking as she lifted her hand again and saw the dark liquid staining her fingers.

.

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	20. XIX: In Which Barry Sets The Precedent

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Chapter XIX: In Which Barry Sets The Precedent

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**_February 5th, 2009. Morning. Opelucid City._**

"I just needed to get away, you know?" Barry said, sticking his fork into a leftover slice of a cake Cilan had made the previous night and taking a bite. "It's been nice to just be chilling with Bianca here, 'cause Unova has no contests, and it doesn't have the Sinnoh Battle Frontier in it, either."

Iris watched him amusedly—if he thought that was good, he should try one of her brother-in-law's deserts—but her brow was sympathetically curved. Cilan was presently teaching class, so Iris was entertaining their old friend alone, although plans for a later lunch, perhaps with a battle on the side, were in the making, at which time Trip would certainly join them. Hardly no one in their circle passed up the opportunity to meet together when they were in the same area, and this was no different.

"Bianca can cheer anyone up, I think," she said. "You can, too, but I think you need the cheering up."

Barry hummed in response and took another bite.

"Anyway, enough about me," he dismissed. "How's married life treating you?"

"Oh, um," Iris stumbled over her words. "It's been good. It's been more than a year now, and neither one of us have headed for the courts."

"That's good." Barry grinned. "You gotta make sure Cilan is good to you. If he's not, lemme know, and I'll slap a hefty fine on him."

"Oh geez." Iris rolled her eyes but laughed.

A brief silence fell. Barry continued working on his slice of cake, and Iris drew her hands closer to herself.

"Barry?" she began quietly.

"Yeah?" Barry swallowed a bite.

"Are you really going to turn down the open spot on the Sinnoh Battle Frontier?" she asked.

He frowned and cast his eyes downward.

"Yeah..." he answered sadly. "Man, every fiber in my being wants it, but... I gotta lay low for a while. The thing with Kyle totally shot my reputation, and I think me becoming a Frontier Brain now would just cause more trouble, and I don't want that."

"I understand." Iris nodded. "I'm just disappointed for you."

Barry nodded, too, and stuck his fork into his cake again

"I wouldn't wish it on anyone," he mumbled.

"Wish what?"

"Having your heart broken in front of everyone, and getting your name dragged through the mud—even if someone deserved it, I wouldn't wish it on them," he elaborated.

"Barry, you _didn't_ deserve it," Iris reminded him.

"Oh, I know," Barry said with a wave of his hand. "I'm just saying, 'cause it sucks. It really, really sucks."

_**July 2nd, 2009. Morning. Opelucid City.**_

May woke up to kisses—but not from whom she would have expected.

She initially groaned, not being a morning person, but it was soon followed by a giggle as she grasped the dull part of Absol's horn and pushed him off her face.

"Absol," she chuckled, her voice still husky with sleep. "Absol, it's too early." May flipped herself belly-down, burying her face in her pillow, but Absol was persistent. Her nudged his head underneath her hand and made a low, urgent noise. May soon realized Absol was trying to wake her up for reasons greater than wanting attention.

"What's the matter?" May asked, sitting up and brushing her fingers through her own hair. She conjured an inkling of answer on her own when she realized Drew wasn't in bed beside her, and that she could hear him talking in the other room. She threw her sheets off her and headed out into the front room, where Drew sat on the sofa. His cell phone was pressed to his ear, and he looked no less exhausted than he did last night.

"Please, any information on them would be helpful," Drew tiredly pleaded. "... All right. Well, if you find anything, you know how to reach me."

When he ended the call, May immediately asked, "Who were you talking to?"

Drew snapped his head up, not realizing she was there.

"Casper Eadward," he answered shortly.

"Who's that?"

"He was my father's lawyer."

"What?" Confusion crossed May's expression. "What are you talking to him for? Did something bad happen?"

"He's not that kind of lawyer," Drew mumbled. "He manages my father's estate."

"Did your father leave you something?" May pressed.

"Mmm." It was neither a yes or no, and May frowned.

"Drew, did you sleep at all last night?" she asked with a sigh.

"Yeah."

"Really?" May looked doubtful.

"Yes, really, May," Drew replied, exasperated.

"For how long?"

"I managed to get a couple hours."

May made a distressed, though sympathetic noise, as she furrowed her eyebrows.

"Did you call that number I sent you and set up an appointment?" she asked.

"... No," he eventually admitted.

"Okay, I'm going to call them now," May said firmly. "You need to see someone today." She headed back toward their bedroom, and Drew let out a long breath before rising to follow her.

"May..." he began, but he stopped when he saw he standing upright with her phone lifted to her eyes and her hand pressed to her mouth in abject horror.

"What's the matter?" Drew asked, and May swallowed.

* * *

"Misty? Misty, wake up!" Ash stood outside her room, practically banging on her door while still dressed in his nightwear. His cell phone was clutched tightly in his hand, and Pikachu was pulling on his trainer's pajama bottoms, trying to calm him down. The desperate clamor managed to wake the rest of Ash's companions, starting with Serena and Bonnie, who came out of their room looking both confused and tired.

"Ash?" Serena inquired. "What's going on?"

"Yeah..." Clemont came out of a different room, rubbing his eyes; Ritchie was next. Clemont continued, "Is something wrong?"

"I..." Ash drew in a shaky breath. "Ritchie, did Leaf text you?"

"Uh." Ritchie blinked. "I haven't checked my phone, actually. Hang on." He disappeared back into his room, just as Misty opened the door to hers.

"Misty!" Ash straightened up. "Misty, did you see-"

"-I did," Misty said solemnly. "I think she sent everyone text messages."

"What text messages?" Serena asked, now more awake and alarmed. "What happened?"

* * *

Burgundy's entire frame was stiff as she proceeded down the hallway, toward Cilan's office, where they met every morning prior to class. She had half-considered not coming; she still was too angry, too upset, to want to have anything to do with him, and she figured her place in the PCA was a lot cause anyway, so what was the point? Yet, she ultimately dragged herself out of bed, deciding she at least wanted to be there for the rest of the C-Class students they would need to address that day.

The door to Cilan's office was cracked open when she came upon it, and she pushed her way inside, expecting to see Cilan sitting in his chair and pulling together his lecture materials as usual. Instead, however, Chili was stationed tiredly at his brother's desk, logged onto the computer and playing some trivial online arcade game. He paused it when he noticed her.

"Hey," he said wearily.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Burgundy asked flatly.

"Cilan said you weren't answering his messages." Chili sounded equally unamused.

"Yeah, and?" Burgundy wasn't sure which person she wanted to see less at that point: Cilan or his obnoxious red-haired triplet brother.

"Did you even look at them?" Chili asked.

"No."

"Did you check your email this morning?" he pressed.

"No."

Chili scoffed and closed the browser on the computer, shutting it down, before swiveling in his chair to face her again.

"Cilan cancelled class again," Chili said shortly. "He tried to contact you and tell you, but you wouldn't respond, and he was worried you'd just show up and be left hanging. So he sent me to catch you in case you did come."

Burgundy blinked and turned her head.

"Wait..." she began warily. "Why would he cancel class again?"

* * *

"What room?" Georgia whipped her head back toward Trip as the brusquely moved up the hospital hallway. "What room was it again?"

"110," Trip answered shortly. Georgia nodded and proceeded forward again, soon finding the room labeled such. Just as they arrived, the door opened, and Leaf slid out with Gary in tow; it was clear neither had gotten much, if any, sleep.

"Leaf, Gary—" Trip stepped forward. "What happened? How did this happen?"

"I don't know." Gary shook his head. "Cilan knocked on our door this morning, like at 2 a.m., in a panic, and we went to the hospital."

"Isn't there anything they can do?" Georgia implored.

"It's already over," Leaf said morosely. "There was no heartbeat when we got here, and she had been bleeding and having contractions. She's already delivered it. Now they're prepping her for some small surgery to clean out the rest of her uterine lining."

"Arceus..." Georgia fell back. "Where are you two headed now?"

"She's taking me to the Opelucid Pokémon Center," Gary answered. "Two Pokémon have been brought in for testing. We've got to... keep on keepin' on, I guess."

"Are you coming back?" Trip asked.

"Maybe. Probably not," Leaf answered plainly. "Cilan told me to go home and get some sleep. I sent out a mass text message earlier at his and Iris's request to the others, letting them know what happened but that he and Iris just want to be... left alone. They said it in nicer terms, but that's the gist."

"Should we just leave then?" Trip moved his foot back.

"No, she was asking for you earlier," Leaf assured him. She then turned an eye toward Georgia to address her. "And you're gonna do whatever you want anyway, so... just be gentle." She brushed past the pair, with Gary on her heels. Georgia and Trip exchanged anxious glances, and Trip wetted his lips.

"What do you wanna do?" he asked.

"Well, you heard her," Georgia said. "Iris was asking for you."

Trip nodded slowly and then turned toward the door. He reached for the handle and gently pushed it open before heading inside. Georgia decided to go with him.

The room was dead silent, and the atmosphere that accompanied it was thickly melancholic. Iris lied despondently in a hospital gown, her head propped up by several pillows, her lower half covered by a thin white sheet. Cilan was at her bedside, grasping one of her hands with both of his and leaning his head against the bond. Cress was half-asleep on one of the extra chairs, resting his chin on his hand; Chili was nowhere to be seen.

"Trip..." Some warmth returned to Iris's eyes when she saw her old friend, and Trip cautiously moved forward.

"Iris, I'm—" He was at a loss for words. "—I'm so sorry."

"Things happen, I guess." Iris tried to shrug it off.

"Leaf said you wanted to see me."

"Yeah, um..." Her voice was weak with exhaustion. "The Pokémon are back at the gym, and I don't think they have any idea we're here. They haven't eaten, yet. I would have asked Leaf, but I know she's dropping off Gary, and that she and Wallace and Cynthia are getting together to..."

"To what?"

"Well," Iris began airily, "a month ago, we announced I was pregnant. In another month, it will be obvious I'm not anymore. So I guess we have to say something."

Georgia drew her arms around herself, watching Iris with a sympathetic frown. Iris had yet to acknowledge her in any form.

"I can feed them," Trip hastily agreed.

"I can write you down the instructions," Cilan said, drawing his head away from Iris's hand and lifting his eyes toward the photographer.

"Perhaps over some breakfast from the cafeteria," Cress suggested.

Cilan hummed, displeased by the suggestion, but Iris quickly spoke up.

"No, it's okay," Iris assured him. "Don't stop eating just because I have to."

"Are you sure?" Cilan asked.

"Mhm." Iris nodded.

"Why can't she eat?" Georgia asked, speaking for the first time.

"It's part of her preparation for surgery," Cress explained in brief, and Georgia nodded, understanding.

"I'll be back soon, okay?" Cilan promised Iris.

"Okay," Iris said before he kissed her. He then rose up with Cress and ushered Trip out with them. The door closed, and Georgia and Iris were alone.

For a while, nothing was said. Both kept their gazes averted from each other, not knowing _what_ to say. Finally, Georgia cleared her throat.

"Iris, I'm really sorry, too," she offered.

"It's okay," Iris said quietly. "It's just..."

"Just what?"

Georgia was caught off guard when Iris suddenly began to cry. Yet, the Unova Champion pressed her hands over her eyes, embarrassed. It became evident she hadn't wanted to cry in front of her husband or brother-in-law, but doing the same in front of her former rival and now Elite Four member hardly seemed like the better option.

"Why did this have to happen now?" she asked, though she didn't expect an answer. "He was depending on her. _I_ was depending on her."

"What... What do you mean?" Georgia asked, sounding nervous; she felt ill-prepared to handle this situation. She had felt the same with Burgundy, too, yesterday, but at least she and Burgundy were close friends. She didn't know what she and Iris were.

"First, it was Adam—then Anwir, and Summer." Iris's voice was still watery. "But Karina—he was already destroyed, and now this. I don't know what he and I did to deserve getting thrown to the ground and stomped on while we we were already down. He wanted her, and I wanted her, too, and I didn't realize just how badly I did until now. We were so scared, because it was a total accident, but I guess she became our light at the end of tunnel."

"_She?_"

"She was a girl. We didn't know, until we held her." Iris let out a sudden, bitter laugh. "Well, we didn't really hold her, I guess. She was smaller than the palm of my hand. Twelve weeks isn't that far, but it's far enough to where you actually start to look... human."

Georgia didn't know what to say, and Iris sucked in her breath.

"Sorry," Iris apologized. "I don't know why I'm rambling about this to you. They're going to do something called a 'D&amp;C' soon, which I guess is supposed to clean everything else inside up."

"How long will that take?" Georgia asked.

"I've had to fast for eight hours, but the surgery itself will only last ten or fifteen minutes," Iris answered. "They have to put me under anesthesia, but I guess it's a lot of quicker than just letting everything get rid of itself naturally. I'd normally want that, but I just..." Iris curled up, bringing her legs closer to her and hiding her face between her knees. "I want this to be over as soon as possible."

* * *

Burgundy felt sick to her stomach—almost to the point where she wanted to ask Chili to pull over so she could throw up on the side of the road.

Instead, she was crying, and furiously trying to hide the fact. She had already shed too many tears yesterday, over the past several days really, and doing so in the presence of Chili was certainly not on her bucket list. She wasn't even sure why she crying then; the miscarriage was not hers, but its advent triggered the same feelings of despair and anger she had cycled through before Chili found her in the bathroom yesterday. At least he had the grace (Burgundy decided to interpret it as that rather than indifference) to ignore her tears, keeping his eyes on the road with one hand on the steering wheel and the other supporting his head.

Eventually, Burgundy let out an exasperated curse—Chili wasn't in the PCA, so no language politics were necessary—and said, "This is so unfair."

"In what way?" Chili asked flatly. "'Cause, you know, I was under impression you hated Cilan yesterday."

"I do." As soon as she said it, however, she hastily amended, "Or—no. I don't know. It's really difficult to hate someone who just lost his baby."

"Arceus, it must be _so hard_ being you."

"Oh, shut up," Burgundy hissed vehemently. "Didn't you say yesterday you felt bad for me?"

"Yeah, _yesterday_. Today, I'm feelin' a little more bad for Cilan and Iris," Chili said point-blank. "I don't know what you're expecting out of me, though. I love my brother, so I'm not going to sympathize with your alleged hatred toward him."

Burgundy huffed and redirected her gaze out the window. A short silence followed.

"... I don't hate him," Burgundy soon mumbled.

"You flip-flop worse than a Magikarp," Chili remarked.

"Are you going to make a snarky comment every time I talk?" Burgundy asked, frustrated.

"Sorry. Please, continue," Chili said, though he hardly sounded sincere. Burgundy hummed angrily and looked away again.

"I don't hate him," she repeated, more solidly.

"You're jealous of him," Chili elaborated for her, and Burgundy straightened up in surprised, darting her eyes back toward him. "That I can sympathize with."

"_You_ can sympathize?" Burgundy asked doubtfully. "Why even would you..."

"Probably for the same reasons as you," Chili said with a shrug. "But hey, at least you made it into PCA. I couldn't even pass the entrance exams. Not a good test-taker."

Burgundy stared at him for a while, unsure of what to make of this new information. She directed her gaze toward the road ahead of her again.

"I don't even know if I'm jealous anymore," she admitted. It was strange for her, confessing she had indeed been jealous; she wouldn't even tell Georgia that, though she was sure Georgia knew anyway. "I was jealous when I saw him as this person who breezed through his years in the PCA, getting accepted into the S-Class program on his first try, getting an amazing job almost immediately after graduation, and finding love and marrying _the Champion of Unova_."

Burgundy couldn't tell if Chili was listening at all, but she went on anyway.

"But now..." She trailed off. "I see that his colleagues don't respect him, and that being married to the Unova Champion is..." She paused, struggling for the right words. "... a lot harder than you would think. You know, with people trying to kill her, and with the media watching their every move—everyone is going to know they miscarried that baby. It's hard enough just dealing with it on your own; I can't imagine dealing with it and a whole nation of onlookers."

Chili flicked his gaze toward Burgundy, finally confirming that he was paying attention.

"I guess this all has really turned a mirror on me," Burgundy continued, more quietly. "I have to stare my own bitterness, and selfishness, in the face, and it's made me realize I'm actually a terrible person, and that I have no one to blame for what's happening with my place in the PCA but myself." She paused before adding, "Oh, do you even know anything about that?"

"About you being on the verge of being kicked out for some complaint Cilan filed years back?" Chili inquired. "Yeah, I know about that. Both Iris and Cress know, too."

They came upon the hospital, and Chili drove into the parking lot. When he pulled into a space and turned off the engine, he faced Burgundy more fully and continued, "You know, I was serious yesterday when I said we felt bad for you. Iris is really pro-Burgundy, actually. And maybe you don't care about Cilan, but he sure cares a hell of a lot about you, and he would like nothing more than to see you escape expulsion and get into that S-Class program."

Burgundy stared at him, her arms folded, but said nothing.

"You're not a terrible person," Chili added. "A brat, sure. But there's gotta be something good in you if Cilan's willing to stick his neck out for you."

"Thanks," Burgundy grumbled.

"Anytime."

"... Are you sure he'll want to talk to me now?" she asked.

"Yeah. It might make him feel a little better, actually. One less thing to feel awful about, you know?" Chili opened the door and stepped outside; Burgundy followed suit. He started to head toward the hospital entrance, but Burgundy quickly caught up to him.

"Hey—" Burgundy grabbed onto the sleeve of his jacket. "Thank you, again."

Chili appeared briefly estranged, but nodded and offered her a weak smile.

* * *

"Looks like Leaf isn't back yet," Georgia remarked as they stepped into the empty living quarters of the Opelucid Gym. Her voice was amplified by the silence the hung from the ceiling in every room.

"Yeah..." Trip moved forward, but rather than making a left turn, toward the kitchen, he made a right.

"Uh, hello?" Georgia followed him. "The kitchen is _that_ way." She pointed for emphasis, but Trip didn't cast her a glance.

"Yeah, hang on," Trip mumbled. "I've just got to take care of something else first."

Georgia stopped, and she watched him disappear into to Cilan and Iris's bedroom. She craned an eyebrow, bemused as to what he could possibly be doing, but soon found out. She proceeded to the doorway, and her breath caught when she saw Trip hovering over the couple's bed. He had pushed off the pillows and was now stripping the mattress of its blood-stained sheets.

"Trip..." She trailed off. He stopped what he was doing long enough to let out a sigh.

"Better me than them," he said.

* * *

When they were younger, Burgundy used to spew vindictive, though ultimately innocuous remarks about how she wanted to see Cilan suffer; she wanted to watch him stumble and fall, land face-down on the ground, where his perceived arrogance would crumble into the earth. These rants usually prompted a roll of the eyes from Georgia, perhaps a wry comment about how that wasn't what she _really_ wanted—an echo of the warning that she ought to, as the old cliché went, be careful what she wished for.

Burgundy certainly wished she could take back those teenaged wishes now.

Cilan sat beside his Cress, who had a comforting arm on his back, in the waiting room. In one hand hung his sleep-deprived face; the other held a half-empty cup of coffee that he was unlikely to finish. Burgundy's legs stiffened, being unwilling to move. Yet, Chili continued anyway, and she forced herself to drag the cinder blocks that had grown on her feet, not wanting to be left behind.

Cilan perked up when he noticed her and Chili approaching, and he looked at her with wide, disbelieving eyes.

"Burgundy..." He straightened up.

She drew in a shaky breath.

"Cilan, I'm... I'm so, so sorry," she managed to say. Cress nudged Chili in the side, indicating they should leave, and they both shuffled out of the room; neither their brother nor Burgundy seemed to noticed.

"I didn't realize you were coming," Cilan admitted. "After yesterday, I didn't think you would want to talk to me at all."

"I understand if you don't want to see me now, either," Burgundy said.

"It's okay," Cilan assured her. "I have nothing else to do at the moment. Iris is in surgery right now."

"Surgery?"

"Very minor surgery," Cilan clarified. "It's called a Dilation and Curettage. They open up the cervix and scrap out extra tissues."

"Oh..." Burgundy trailed off, uncomfortable. The grittiness of reality was unpleasant. Cilan hadn't talked much about his and Iris's expecting outside of off-hand remarks before or after class, and, during their drive up to Lacunosa Town, some small talk, wherein he had absentmindedly mentioned he was looking forward to being a father. When he did bring it up, however, he spoke using agreeable euphemisms and cheerful words. Death had now calloused his speech, littering it with detached phrases and medical jargon.

Cilan gestured for her to sit beside him, and Burgundy slowly, hesitatingly, did so.

"You ran off before I could have the chance to apologize yesterday," Cilan remarked. "I'm very sorry."

"I don't want your apology." She didn't sound bitter or angry when she she spoke; only honest. Cilan said nothing in response, perhaps because he expected her to continue, or perhaps because the hours of the night lost had muddled his access to his linguistic sensibilities. Burgundy eventually added, "I just want you to answer me two questions."

"Certainly," Cilan agreed.

"One," she began, a little tersely. "Why did you report me?"

Cilan leaned his head back, apparently thinking, before letting out a sigh.

"Self-righteous moral obligation," he eventually answered. "... And I felt it would earn me good favor."

Burgundy only processed this response for a moment—a true, fleeting moment. Her 15-year-old self, and perhaps even her 22-year-old self from several months earlier, could have only dreamed of hearing Cilan admit he had been arrogant, but now, she derived no pleasure from the confession.

"Two," Burgundy went on, "why did you defend me?"

Cilan tapped his finger against the side of his now-cold beverage.

"I won't lie to you," he began quietly. "It was partially for selfish—and naïve—social justice reasons."

"I don't know if you can say 'social justice' is selfish," Burgundy said.

"It is when it's not your name you're throwing onto the chopping block." Cilan shook his head, but eventually continued, "However... I also genuinely believe you shouldn't be expelled, and that it would have been wrong for Ricard to reject you for the PCA program."

Burgundy didn't know if she was satisfied by these answers. Then again, she hadn't know what she wanted at all. She closed her eyes and sucked her breath.

"Cilan..." she said his name carefully, "when Poltiere and the other board members start poking around about what happened—I want to take the blame."

"What?" Cilan drew back in surprise. "Burgundy, wait..."

"No," Burgundy insisted more firmly. "I want to take responsibility for this. I need to take responsibility for something. Besides, I'm probably going to get kicked out anyway, so there's no sense in you taking the fall."

Cilan stared at her for a while, and Burgundy's eyes soon left him. The door to the waiting room opened, and Chili strolled inside.

"Hey," Chili greeted, addressing Cilan. "It's over. The surgery's done."

"Already?" Cilan raised an eyebrow.

"Mhm," Chili hummed affirmatively. Conflict crossed Cilan's expression, and Burgundy frowned.

"... You should go be with her," she said.

"Well, I imagine she hasn't-"

"-Cilan just go," she cut him off with an exasperated sigh.

Cilan pressed his lips into a hard line. Then, he nodded, later than usual; his lack of rest had slowed down his reaction time. He eventually rose up, coffee still in hand.

"We'll talk about this more, later," he said. "I'll see you in class Tuesday."

* * *

When Gary peered into the cage, he found no glowing, purple eyes staring back at them. They were beady and black and afraid, in fact—and when Gary got too close, the creature writhed its lips and showed its two large front teeth, one of which was chipped. It cried out in a manner unlike anything he heard of the species and launched toward him, hitting the bars of the cage. Gary backed away.

"Not so cute and cuddly now, huh?" he mused, his eyes still locked on the trapped Buneary before him.

"Gary?" The young researcher turned when he heard his name called and saw Misty coming up the hallway. He shook his head and turned back toward the cage as she came up beside him.

"If you're going to bring up what I think you will, don't," Gary said plainly. "I don't want to talk about it."

"I won't," Misty tacitly said. "I just heard there were more Pokémon brought in."

"Yeah," Gary mumbled. "This Buneary, and a Persian."

"Did they test positive?"

"Bill tested them, and both came back yes," Gary answered. "But just looking at them is enough to know they're infected."

"Yeah..." Misty trailed off. She leaned toward the cage, and the Buneary backed off, calming down. Gary raised an eyebrow. She continued, "Have you made any progress?"

"No," Gary sighed. "My grandfather has a theory, but I don't buy into it."

"What's that?"

"He thinks it's suspicious Purrloin fell ill the same night Karina died, and that, similarly, Summer's Houndoom died the same night she did," Gary explained. "The sample's too small, though, and both cases can be easily dismissed as coincidence. I saw Anwir and Adam's Pokémon at the SAMPLe facility. Both were alive."

Misty hummed in response and straightened up.

"What are the G-Men going to say about Iris?" she asked.

"Not my area," Gary said tersely. "I already told you not to bring it up."

"Sorry?" Misty huffed. "I'm just worried." She looked away, toward the television mounted on the wall. "I'll check the news." She pulled the remote out of its holder on the wall and turned the television on. It immediately tuned into one of the stations they had watched yesterday. The anchor was in the middle of transitioning to a commercial break.

"_When we come back, we're sitting down with a man who has something to say about the new Pokérus, and the G-Men's report yesterday,_" he said. "_His name is Natural Harmonia, and he works with a local Unova rescue organization known as SAMPLe._"

Gary stiffened and turned toward the screen with wide eyes. He snatched his phone out of his back pocket and quickly dialed a number.

"Leaf?" he began desperately when she picked up. "Leaf, are you back at the gym yet? You need to change the channel to the Unovan Broadcast News station immediately."

_**July 2nd, 2009. Noon. New Bark Town.**_

"Hey Silver!" Lyra, curled up on the couch, called out. "You gotta come see this."

"What is it?" Silver, looking disgruntled, emerged from the doorway to a nearby room.

"I just saw a promo for some hippie-looking guy about to talk to the anchor on UBN." Lyra turned around to face him and grinned. "He apparently has some big things to say about the G-Men and this virus. I've always loved conspiracy theorists with crazy ideas."

Silver's expression maintained a look of disinterest, but he nevertheless approached the television set, deciding to entertain her.

"_And we're back,_" the anchor soon began. "_Yesterday, the G-Men issued a public health warning in Unova about what some are now calling the Pokérus, a virus that affects both Pokémon and humans. The G-Men assured the public in a related statement that the outbreak can be controlled if trainers bring their suspected infected Pokémon in for testing, and that a team of researchers is working toward finding a treatment. But what if there already is a treatment? We're joined now by Natural Harmonia, a representative of a start-up rehabilitation facility in Nimbasa City called SAMPLe, and he claims the cure is within their grasp. Natural?_"

The screen flashed to a young, adult male with long green hair that was neatly pulled back into a clean ponytail; he was a bit underdressed, wearing a white button-up with no suit jacket or tie, but his appearance was still less slovenly than usual.

"_Please, call me N,_" he said politely.

Silver sucked in his breath.

"Holy-"

"What? Do you know him?" Lyra looked at him, confused and alarmed.

"A... little bit," Silver mumbled.

"_Of course,_" the anchor said. _"N, you told us that SAMPLe is working on an effective treatment, too, correct?_"

"_That's correct._" N nodded. "_We've been at it for weeks, long before the G-Men._"

"_You also told us SAMPLe and the G-Men have been in contact?_"

"_Mhm,_" N hummed. "_Both Leaf Greene and Iris Ajagara met with our top researcher last week, but no agreement was reached._"

"_Why wasn't an agreement reached?_"

"_We were unwilling to hand over our research._"

"_Why's that?_"

"_SAMPLe chooses not to work with corrupt organizations, and the G-Men is one of them,_" N answered simply, though incisively. "_We know for a fact that the Pokérus, as you call it, was studied by Gary Oak, the boyfriend of Champion Leaf Greene. The Pokérus has properties that increase a Pokémon's strength, and the G-Men was interested in that power._"

"Oh..." Lyra trailed off, shocked. "Oh man. This is about to get really ugly."

Silver appeared similarly shocked. He let out a long breath.

"So this is how it falls apart," he mused. "Those poor idiots—Iris, Paul, Leaf, all of them."

"I thought you hated the G-Men?" Lyra inquired, overhearing his spoken thoughts.

Sivler shook his head. He didn't answer her question, only repeating, "Those poor idiots."

_**July 2nd, 2009. Noon. Opelucid City.**_

The voice in the living room rang clear and familiar, and it gave Paul pause. Why Reggie now watched the news so often was beyond him—regularly doing so had become unbearably taxing on Paul, himself—but on that morning, he would be grateful his brother had tuned in.

Paul's head rose as he snapped his book shut. He then headed into the living room to see what—or who—was on the television. He realized with a jolt that he did indeed recognize the voice and face of UBN's interviewee.

"Arceus," Paul swore aloud. "That's N."

"N?" Reggie cast his younger brother a confused look, just now realizing he was there. "Who's N?"

"Some Plasma manchild we picked up a month or so ago, but he got away from us," Paul dismissed.

"_I'm sorry,_" the anchor began, feigning shock; he had already heard all of N's strong words during the pre-interview, "_but are you suggesting the G-Men created this virus to try to harness its power?_"

"_Not create,_" N corrected, _"but they did study its properties, with the potential of using it to strengthen Pokémon, but it clearly got away from them._"

"_To strengthen their Pokémon?_" the anchor inquired.

N was silent. Then, he answered, "_Some Champions will do anything they can to maintain their power within the G-Men. Isn't it suspect that Leaf Greene canceled her match with Ash Ketchum in the weeks leading up to the release of this report? And what about Iris Ajagara, arguably the weakest of the Champions with a background of only being a gym leader? Isn't it suspect this virus broke out in Unova months before the Vertress Conference?_"

Paul's jaw briefly went slack, as did Reggie's. Paul, however, quickly snapped his mouth shut again and turned angrily on his heel, heading back to his bedroom. He picked up his phone on his nightstand, intending to call Leaf, but was surprised to see a message from her sent earlier that morning. He opened it up and, after scaninng it, let out a shaken breath. Then, in his frustration, he threw the device down on his bed with a loud curse.

"Paul?!" Reggie ran back to the bedroom and found his younger brother furiously tying his messy hair back into a ponytail.

"I'm going to the gym," Paul declared, brushing past Reggie and heading toward the front room.

"I thought you said you were banned!" Reggie hurried after him.

"I'm unbanning myself," Paul said, opening the front door to slip outside and slamming it behind him.

* * *

"Thank you!" The receptionist waiting behind the counter at the doctor's office May had recommended smiled brightly at Drew as he returned his clipboard to her; he had spent the past ten minutes filling out his information, struggling to do so in his dead-eyed state.

Drew nodded at her and returned to his seat. He rested his head on his hand, watching the muted—though captioned—program on the office's television set. A UBN anchor was speaking to a young male with long, green hair. Drew didn't know what the interview was about, and he didn't particularly care; his eyes glazed over, and he began to nod off—until he saw the word "SAMPLe" flash across the screen.

"What the-" Drew straightened up, now feeling more awake. However, he immediately began to doubt whether he had actually seen the rescue's name; he had, after all, slept maybe five hours over the past forty-eight, thanks to his self-driven investigation into the organization.

Yet, when he saw the name again, he knew it wasn't his mind playing games on him.

"Hayden?" A nurse stepped out into the hallway, calling his name. "Drew Hayden?"

"Yeah." Drew rose up, though his eyes were still locked on the screen. "Yeah, hang on."

* * *

May walked into the CIU and found the staff in a worried frenzy. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and set her bag down on her desk, intending to ask Max what had happened—but she was approached first.

"Where've you been?" Dawn intercepted her, grasping her wrists.

"I... was just dropping Drew off at an appointment," May answered, surprised. "I'm sorry I'm late."

"Didn't you hear what happened?"

"About the miscarriage?"

"More than that," Dawn went on. "On UBN, just now, some person named N from SAMPLe took aim at Iris, Leaf—all of them."

"What?!" May perked up in alarm.

"Yeah, it was bad." Kenny approached them with Barry in tow. "It was really, really bad. He, like, suggested that the virus was being studied by the G-Men so it could be used by the Champions to strengthen their teams, but that their experimentation went wrong, or something."

"Oh—oh no." May sucked in her breath. "Wait, did you say SAMPLe?"

"Yeah, why?" Dawn inquired.

"Drew was... freaking out about them yesterday," May said slowly. "It was really odd." It occurred to her that maybe she should call him, but she didn't want to interrupt his appointment, or cause him to lose anymore sleep.

"Wasn't SAMPLe the same organization that met with Iris before we did?" Zoey asked, joining their circle.

"Yeah, I... I think they were," May answered. "Mm, this gives me a bad feeling..."

"A bad feeling? That's it?" Barry questioned her.

"What do you mean?" May was taken aback by the his less-than-friendly tone.

"I just—" Barry paused, shaking his head. "I've gone through his before, and it's..."

"It's awful," Zoey finished for him, understanding. "Iris just lost her baby, and now this. Can you imagine? Can you imagine what kind of horrible things they're going to say about her now?"

_**January 8th, 2009. Afternoon. Hearthome City.**_

"Zoey Williams?"

Zoey's head snapped upon hearing her name called, and before her stood a young woman, only several years older than herself, with a thin frame accentuated well-fitted white pencil skirt and a deep red blouse. Her bright lips of the same color stood out starkly against her porcelain skin, made paler by her jet black hair that was pulled back into a neat ponytail.

"Yes, that's me." Zoey rose up to meet her.

"Hi, I'm Ciara Skelley." Ciara extended a hand toward her. "I'm a reporter here. I heard you were applying."

"Really?" Zoey shook her hand. "They're... talking about me?"

"Oh yeah," Ciara with a wave of her hand. "You're a shoe-in. It's great for you, but unfortunate for me."

"... Unfortunate?" Zoey now appeared more guarded.

"I was actually in the middle of writing a story about you," Ciara explained. "If you work for us, that's a conflict of interest. My editor killed the story."

"I'm... sorry?"

"Thank you." Ciara smiled. "It's no matter anymore, though; I have a better story running in this week's issue. Anyway, good luck in your interview."

"Thanks..." Zoey cast her a strange look as Ciara strutted away. She shook her head and was about to sit down again, but then the door to the office opened, and a silver-haired woman stepped outside.

"Zoey Williams?" she inquired.

"Yes?" Zoey perked up again.

"Hello, my name is Jane Priel." She shook Zoey's hand. "I'm the editor-in-chief. I normally don't do interviews for reporter positions, but out features editor is out sick today."

"Well, it's an honor to meet you Ms. Priel," Zoey said graciously; although she maintained a collected front, her heart rate briefly sped up at the notion she was speaking with the top editor.

Jane smiled and gestured toward the door.

"Come inside," she said, ushering Zoey along. Zoey headed inside and sat in the blue-padded chair set up in front of the large wooden desk, where Jane now stationed herself. Various framed covers, all from different years, hung around the room—including one featuring the headline "BACK FROM THE DEAD," and on it were several faces all too familiar to her.

"I have to admit, I'm pretty excited to have a former Top Coordinator apply to work for us," Jane began. "Almost all of our staffers were once active coordinators themselves, but never have we had someone as decorated as you on our staff."

"Thank you." Zoey nodded. "I love coordinating, and I want to still be connected to the community somehow, and what better way to do that than work for the circuit's most well-read magazine?"

"Do you read Coordinators Weekly?"

"I don't think there's a coordinator who doesn't pay attention to it," Zoey answered honestly.

"Very true," Jane laughed. "Well-" Before she could continue, however, her words were cut off by her door swinging open again.

"-Pardon the interruption." Another women, a plump brunette, poked her head into the office. "Ms. Priel, we have a dispute over the cover typeface."

Jane frowned, but said, with a sigh, "All right. Come in, quickly."

The woman shuffled inside and went straight for Jane's desk and laid two page proofs on her desk.

"We have two possible mock-ups for the cover: one with a headlines that pops, and one that's flat," the woman explained. "Sue thinks the poppy one is garish, but I think the flat one blends too much into the background."

"Hm," Jane mused, touching the edge of one of the mock-ups. "I see both of your points. ... What do you think, Ms. Williams?"

She held the two pages up for her to see, and Zoey felt her breath hitch. Each cover featured the same photo and headline: a picture of a tall, blond male kissing, unmistakably Barry, kissing another male who was familiar to Zoey as well, with the words "CAUGHT IN THE ACT!" splashed across the bottom of the page.

"Is something wrong?" Jane inquired when Zoey didn't answer.

"Nothing, I just..." Zoey shook her head. "I know him. I know the person on that cover."

"Which one?" the plump woman inquired.

"Barry Pearl," Zoey answered. "What's Coordinators Weekly reporting on him for? He's not a coordinator."

"Well, it's not just him," the plump woman went on with a grin. "It's who he's kissing—Kyle Tribaldos, who is a coordinator. Not a great one, but given that he's swapping spit with Barry Pearl, who's going to be the Frontier Brain in Sinnoh, it's a _big_ story."

* * *

"Hey~" Candice greeted Zoey in a near-flirtatious tone when she walked through the door. "So what's the news? Are we gonna be celebrating?"

They—which included herself, Candice, Barry, Kenny, and Dawn—had agreed to meet at Dawn's apartment post Zoey's interview, with the intention of dinner and perhaps a few drinks. Paul hadn't agreed, but he nevertheless sat moodily on the end of a sofa, his arms folded.

"Hold that thought, Candice." Zoey held up a finger to give Candice pause, then rounded her to approach Barry. "Barry, I need to ask you a question."

"Uh..." Barry blinked. "Sure!"

"Are you dating Kyle?" Zoey went straight to the point.

The question, seemingly coming from nowhere, drew bewildered looks from all of her companions—all, except Barry, who stiffened in response.

"I, um-" He stumbled over his words. "Where did you find out?" The indirect admission sent a small ripple of shock through the group.

"Wait, you're dating _Kyle_?!" Kenny asked, his eyes widening.

"Y-Yeah," Barry sheepishly admitted.

"For how long?" Dawn inquired; she also appeared surprised.

"It's been like... six months, I think," Barry answered.

"Six months?!" Kenny bent over, appalled.

"Hey, don't be mad!" Barry glared at him.

"Well, I, for one, am not mad; I'm more impressed you managed to keep this under wraps for six months," Dawn said. "I would've thought you would've let it slip by now."

"I'm mad." Kenny pouted. "Dude, we're best friends! I can't believe you didn't tell me!"

"Well-"

"-Are you even a virgin anymore?" Kenny interrupted Barry before her could finish. "We had a pact!"

"Kenny, chill out," Zoey said, annoyed, while Barry sighed.

"Look, I wanted to tell you! Honestly!" he tried to assure him. "I would've told all of you! But... er, well, Kyle isn't exactly out yet, and he didn't wanna be, and I was trying to be understanding. I mean, I do understand, because I'm not exactly out to everyone either, and it's probably gonna have to happen when I become a Frontier Brain."

"How did this happen?" Dawn asked, earnest, though still bemused.

"We met after the Jubilife Contest," Barry explained. "I came to watch Kenny, but I ran into him, and, I dunno, we started talking and he asked if we wanted to get drinks later."

"_That's_ where you were?" Kenny practically looked offended by then.

"Hey, we're happy for you," Dawn offered Barry. "It's just a surprise—a good surprise!"

Barry flushed pink and scratched at his face. He turned his eyes back toward Zoey and asked, "How did'ja know anyway?"

"I saw the cover for the upcoming Coordinators Weekly while in my interview," Zoey replied plainly, though firmly. "You and Kyle were on it. Some reporter named Ciara Skelley wrote a story."

Barry's face suddenly fell.

"Oh..."

"I'm sorry," Zoey apologized.

"Nah, don't worry about it. It's not the end of the world. I'll just—" Barry paused, thinking. "—I'll call Kyle! I'll let him know what's happening, and we'll take it on together."

"That's a good mindset," Dawn commended with a smile.

"Okay." Barry jumped up, clenching his fists with anticipation. "I'll call him now. If you'll just give me a few minutes, he and I can talk, and then we'll head out to get drinks! And hey, we can maybe set up a time for you guys to meet him! ... Yeah, this'll be a good thing!"

He hurried off into another room, and several more confused looks were exchanged among those left behind; the revelation that Barry had been seeing someone for more than a half a year was still sinking in.

After a brief spell of silence, Paul furrowed his eyebrows and, looking straight toward Dawn, asked, "Who's Kyle?"

_**July 2nd, 2009. Afternoon. Opelucid City.**_

The door to Iris's office flew open, the handle hitting the doorstop, and Paul, only half-together in appearance, marched inside and straight up to Leaf, who had her cell phone pressed to her ear.

"Is it true?" Paul demanded, not waiting for Leaf to finish her phone call. "Did Iris miscarry?"

Leaf stared at him wide-eyed for a moment, her hand on her hip. Then she spoke into the receiver of her phone, saying, "Wallace, I'll have to get back to you," before hanging up. She dropped her phone to her side and sighed, "Yes. She did."

A rare semblance of distress briefly crossed Paul's expression, and he growled, turning away and pressing a hand to his face.

"I saw N on the news," he mumbled after a while.

"I did, too."

"What the hell-"

"-Yeah, believe me, I know." Leaf's anger—not toward him, but rather, the situation—shone through in her voice. "I'm as flabbergasted as you."

"Did Iris see?" Paul asked, glancing back at her.

"No." Leaf shook her head. "She was at the hospital for some procedure that required general anesthesia. I already talked to Cilan—he's on his way back with Iris, but she's understandably a little out of it. He and I agreed it's better to talk to Iris about it more when she's recovered."

Paul pressed his lips into a hard line.

"I want back in," he demanded.

"Wh... What?" Leaf gave him a strange look.

"I did what you asked me to do." Paul faced her more fully. "I'm seeing a therapist now, and I got a diagnosis, like you wanted: Major Depressive Disorder. I want back in. I can't sit on the sidelines anymore."

Leaf stared. Then, her face softened with gentle sympathy.

"Paul, you were welcome back the moment you called Reggie," she told him. "It was all dependent upon when you were ready."

Now Paul stared at her, too, half-bemused. Leaf smiled weakly and extended her arms to him.

"Come here," she said, inviting him into what would normally be considered a friendly hug; except Paul only tensed up when she touched him, and his arms did not wrap around her as hers did him.

"What are you doing?" he asked flatly.

"It's called a hug," Leaf informed him with a touch of her usual sass. "It's what you give to a person you care about when they're hurting."

Paul frowned, still unsure of what to do and how to react, so he maintained his nonreciprocating stance.

"Well, are you done now?" he asked.

"Yes, fine," Leaf grumbled, pulling back. "But just know, I'm really proud of you."

Paul looked unamused, though disarmed, maybe a twinge embarrassed. He cleared his throat and said, "Let's just worry about Iris."

* * *

"So, you haven't been sleeping lately?" the doctor asked Drew amiably, shutting the door behind him. Drew's hand was pressed to his mouth, his eyes on the screen of his phone; he had been catching up on the interview with SAMPLe's N, and it made him feel ill, on top of everything else.

When Drew didn't respond, the doctor cleared his throat, and Drew quickly looked up.

"Sorry," he hastily apologized, slipping his phone into his back pocket. "No."

"No, you haven't been sleeping lately?" the doctor inquired.

"Mhm," Drew intoned.

"Is the first time you've experienced these problems?"

"No." Drew repeated, shaking his head. "I've had chronic insomnia since I was a kid. I'd been doing well up until recently, though, so I haven't had my prescription for Butterfree Sleeping Powder filled for maybe two years."

"I see," the doctor mused. "Have you had any major stressors in your life lately?"

"Well, my father passed recently," Drew said bluntly.

"That would definitely qualify as a stressor," the doctor sighed. "Well, we'll make this quick. I can write you a new prescription—to Andrew Hayden, correct?"

"Drew. I go by Drew now," Drew corrected. "I changed from Andrew to Drew when I became a trainer." He then suddenly, unexpectedly, mentally stumbled, his breath catching. More than a decade ago, he had changed his name, because he didn't want to be found—and he hid in plain sight, in the community where his father wouldn't think to look.

Certainly, there were others who had, at some point, lived by the same logic.

"All right." The doctor nodded to him, oblivious to Drew's personal revelation. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

As soon as he left, Drew whipped his phone out again, pulled up his browser, and typed "Annie Hollingshead" into the search bar.

* * *

Iris was too dazed—too tired—to realize the sheets on her and Cilan's bed were different than the ones they had lied upon the previous night. Cilan, however, still attentive despite his own exhaustion, drew his lips apart in a quick breath, his eyes widening, his expression turning softer. He had forgotten, and he knew he would have to thank Trip, or Georgia, or Leaf, or whoever, from saving Iris of the sight as he guided her to the mattress, helping her settle down.

"How are you feeling?" Cilan asked, holding onto her hand as he pulled in an extra pillow to better support her head.

"Emotionally or physically?"

"Well..."

"I'm just groggy and sore," Iris mumbled, already knowing which he meant. "... And a little nauseous." Cilan frowned and gently brushed his fingers through some hair near her face.

"Anesthesia can do that you," he said sympathetically. "The doctor also said you might be spotting for several days to come. Do you need me to pick up any hygienic products for you?"

"No, I'll be fine," Iris dismissed.

"Okay." Cilan, still grasping her hand, leaned over and kissed her forehead. "I'm going to talk to Leaf. You should get some sleep."

"About what? About N?" Iris asked.

"A little bit, perhaps."

"Let me come, then." Iris tried to sit up. "I should-"

"-Iris." Cilan gently laid his other hand on her shoulder. "It's okay. Just get some rest."

Iris pursed her lips but nodded. Cilan finally let go of her hand, briefly dragging his fingers across her palm as he did, and headed for the door. He raised his hand to the light switch and cast her a quick glance, inquiring, "On or off?"

"Off."

He nodded and flicked the switch down, but left the door cracked open, allowing for the light of the hallway to lay a soft beam of yellow across the bed. And, though the curtains were drawn, the afternoon sun lit them a bright blue that illuminated the room. Nevertheless, Iris turned in her bed, with a weak hope that sleep would find her; although she was tired, her isolation left her without distraction, and that was when she began to think, and when she began to feel.

She wasn't sure how long she had been stewing in her mind when a rattling against the nightstand drew her out of her introverted state. She craned her head in the direction of the noise, noticing it was her cell phone. She tentatively reached for it, checking the caller ID and, after overcoming her initial hesitation, hit the button to receive the call.

"... Barry?" she asked tepidly.

"_Oh, uh,_" Barry began, surprise evident in his tone. "_Sorry. I was pretty much expecting you not to answer, but I thought I'd give it a shot._"

"Barry, I literally just came home from surgery," Iris said, exasperated, "and from... I just came home from surgery." She repeated herself, unwilling to speak otherwise.

"_I know,_" Barry admitted. "_I got Leaf's texts. But Zoey said something made me really, really feel like I had to talk to you. I understand if you don't, but I really wanna talk._"

Iris was silent for a moment. Then, she said, "Well, I answered the phone." It was the best approval Barry would receive from her then.

"_Um, first off,_" he started, "_how are you doing?_"

"I really appreciate the concern, but I don't want to talk about it," Iris said honestly.

"_Sorry, sorry. I should've known that,_" Barry chastised himself. "_Just trying to find a nice transition, ya know?_"

"A transition into what?"

"_I dunno if it's, uh... considered 'inappropriate' to give a Champion advice._" Barry, Iris realized, had never sounded this unsure. "_But I have some advice; things I wish I knew, or wish I would've done differently._"

"About... what?" Iris asked cautiously.

"_Did you see the interview with N?_"

"No," Iris replied plainly. "I was in the hospital. Cilan gave me what, I think, was a very watered-down version of what happened. I know it was bad, though. ... Every time I think it can't get worse, somehow, it does."

"_You wanna know how to make sure it doesn't get worse?_" Barry propositioned.

"... How?"

"_Fight back._"

"What?" Iris blinked.

"_Fight back,_" Barry repeated, firmly. He paused before adding, "_You know what happened to me. Everyone saw. I was so embarrassed, not being out yet, and having been dumped and having been accused of... you know... and I didn't defend myself. I thought that would be the bigger thing to do, to stay quiet about it._"

Iris was silent.

"_I just kinda rolled over and let everything happen. It makes me mad now, because—you know me—I'm good at standing up for myself, usually! It doesn't pay as much as I would hope, but I do it. I guess I was so sad, though, that I just shut down._" He paused again. "_Don't shut down Iris. I don't wanna sound insensitive, especially because... but please, don't make the same mistake I did. I know you, you've got a lot of fight in you, too, and it'll be hard, 'cause of what happened, but if you don't fight back, it'll eat you up and spit only parts of yourself back up. I gave up the Frontier Brain position, and I really, really regret that._"

Iris, again, stayed quiet for a while. Then, she asked, "Why are you telling me this?"

"_We're friends!_" Barry's tone perked up, as though it were obvious. "_All fourteen of us are friends. We should want to help each other, and I wanna help you, so maybe it doesn't have to hurt as bad._"

For reasons Iris couldn't define, tears, again, pricked her eyes. She was touched. Seven years, and seventy hairline fractures, and they were still friends—all of them.

"Y-Yeah."

"_Hey, hey!_" Barry spoke up suddenly, frantically. "_Are you crying? Why are you crying? No tears! I don't want to have to give you a fine now of all times!_"

"Right. I'm sorry." Iris wiped her eyes. "Geez, I used to not cry this much."

"_Well... I think if there was ever a right time to cry, it would be now,_" Barry conceded. "_... I mean what I said earlier, you know. We all know you were chosen, but we don't—at least, I don't—think any less of you for it, because we always knew you'd be a great leader. Paul and Leaf, too. And we wanna see you come out on top. The CIU's rooting for you. I know maybe this all seems ill-timed 'cause of this morning, but after N... I had to tell you._"

"... Thanks," Iris said. "You're a good friend."

"_Anytime._" Iris could hear the grin in his voice. "_One more thing_."

"Mm?" Iris intoned.

"_Take 'em down,_" he said. "_You're the Unova Champion, the most powerful person in the whole region, and we know you and the others are fighting to make a better future for everyone—for people and Pokémon. Don't let anything stop you guys._"

Suddenly, Iris felt the fire that spurred her on to challenge Elijah spark again.

_**January 15th, 2009. Afternoon. Snowpoint City.**_

"I don't understand how you love this stuff so much," Zoey half-grumbled, leaning her head on her hand as she sprawled out across the sofa in front of the television. "This show is actually the worst. It's so melodramatic, and aside from the sappy romantic subplots, hardly anything happy happens, ever. Everyone's so miserable, and it only gets worse every episode."

Candice was snuggled up with the redhead, her arms wrapped around the latter. Zoey honestly didn't know how Candice's arms weren't having the circulation in them stunted; or, maybe it was happening, but Candice didn't care to move anyway.

"Aw, come on Zoe-Zoe," Candice whined, inclining her head toward Zoey. "It has to get sad before it gets happy. They have to rise above the sadness, you know? You ought to know that better than anyone!"

"Uh-huh." Zoey didn't sound convinced, but before Candice could add to her argument, Zoey's cell phone rang. She shifted to grab it out of her back pocket without disturbing Candice too terribly. She raised an eyebrow when she saw the caller ID.

"What's up, Drew?" she asked, picking up.

"_Hey, did you see the Coordinators Weekly issue today?_" he asked urgently.

"Uh... no." Zoey was estranged. "It's a little chilly out in Snowpoint right now, considering it's the middle of January, and I'd rather stay in." Candice grinned coyly at the remark.

_"Well, maybe you ought to try to pick up a copy, or see if you can find it online,_" Drew went on. "_Ciara Skelley published another article—an interview with Kyle, and he said he and Barry were never in a relationship, and that Barry was forcing himself on him in that cover photo._"

"Excuse me?!" Zoey shot up, nearly hitting Candice in the face. "Barry _forced_ himself on Kyle?"

"_Untrue, obviously._"

"Yeah, obviously," Zoey breathed, reaching for her laptop. "Except not. Only we know that Barry and Kyle were actually dating, and that they broke up because Kyle freaked out over that stupid cover."

"_Mhm._"

"So now he just—" Zoey sputtered angrily as she pulled up a new browser and typed into the search bar. Candice sat up, too, looking alarmed. "—now he just decides to throw Barry under the bus because he doesn't want his reputation to be 'marred' by being gay?"

"_It's an asshole move, for sure,_" Drew remarked.

"No, Drew, I don't think you understand," Zoey insisted. "It's way more than an 'asshole move.' Saying Barry 'forced himself' on Kyle sounds like sexual assault. Barry's supposed to be a new Frontier Brain in Sinnoh soon, and—" She stopped when the Coordinators Weekly website loaded, and sure enough, the front page slider featured a picture of Kyle with a faux solemn expression, and the headline "It Was Never Real" on it.

"Geez..." Candice straightened up, her eyes locked on the screen, too. She then looked pointedly at Zoey, who was at a loss for words. "I hope you know, I would _never_ do that to you."

_**January 15th, 2009. Evening. Twinleaf Town.**_

"I don't even know what I'll say... I don't even know..." Dawn mused to herself anxiously, her hands wrung together in her lap, as Paul parked the car in front of the snow-coated lawn and turned off the engine.

He flicked his eyes toward her and asked, "Are you expecting me to know any better?"

"No, but..." Dawn let out a breath, then shook her head. "Did you talk to Leaf?"

"Yeah," Paul mumbled in response. "She was pretty appalled, too. Her advice is that he should lay low for a while—wait for things to settle down, otherwise it turns into a 'he-said-she-said' type of situation. She thinks him responding would only fan the flames."

"Lay low?" Dawn questioned, doubtful.

"Leaf almost always takes the conservative route when it comes to PR," Paul elaborated. "A 'less is more' approach, I guess. It's something she gets from Lance; they value privacy and would rather things be handled as quietly as possible."

"Does that work?" Dawn asked.

Paul shrugged.

"They successfully kept the G-Men's questionable profile low for years, until they decided to break custom and send a bus over a cliff," Paul send bluntly. "That worked out in the short-term, but was probably the worst mistake they could have made for the long-term."

Dawn warily stared at him for a while; it was odd to hear him speak about the incident as though it were disconnected from them, as though the impression it left was irrelevant. She eventually sighed, "Yeah," then gripped the handle and pushed the door open. Paul followed suit, and they headed toward the front door.

Kenny answered and looked relieved they were there; or, at least, he was relieved Dawn was there.

"How is he?" Dawn asked quickly.

"Not good," Kenny said, ushering them both inside, out of the cold.

"Can you be more specific?" Dawn pressed.

"I mean," Kenny began tiredly, "his ex slandered him in the press today, so I don't know what you'd expect. He's in his room." He pointed up the stairs, and Dawn sucked in her breath. She glanced toward Paul, whose lips were pursed in thought.

"Are you coming?" she asked him, and he shook his head. "Why not?" she went on.

"I'm not built to do this kind of thing," he replied simply.

"It's about being supportive."

"I'm here. I'm supporting."

Dawn made an exasperated noise and looked toward Kenny.

"What about you? Have you been talking to him?" she asked.

"Oh yeah." Kenny nodded. "All day. But I'm sure he'd like to hear from someone other than me."

Dawn nervously rubbed her hands together, too, but also nodded.

"All right," she agreed. She left Paul's side and brushed past Kenny to head up the stairs. She knock when she came upon his door—but upon receiving no response, decided to enter the dimly lit room anyway.

Barry sat upright in his bed, his lower half covered by a thick blanket, his head turned toward the wall. A box of tissues were at his side, and several sheets laid crumpled around him. His hands lied open-palmed in his lap, mere inches away from what Dawn immediately recognized as the latest issue of Coordinators Weekly. Her face softened.

"Barry..." Dawn moved forward. "You shouldn't be looking at this anymore." She picked up the magazine and slid it behind her as she sat down, removing it from sight. He didn't move; he didn't speak.

"You know, it's probably not going to be as bad as you think," Dawn continued reassuringly. "On the first story, the one where it came out that you and Kyle were together, it totally looked like both you and him were into it, and that it was consensual. I think people will realize that."

"Don't lie to me," Barry suddenly snapped, though his voice was weak. He finally looked at her, and she could see the pink swell around his eyes. "They'll distort the truth anyway, if it means they can see someone come crashing down. That's way more fun. That's way easier."

Dawn didn't know what to say.

"How'd I get into this?" he asked aloud, not expecting an answer. "I'm not even a coordinator."

Dawn smiled weakly, comfortingly. She remembered Paul downstairs.

"... I think we all got tied up into places where we didn't want to be," she said.

_**July 2nd, 2009. Late Afternoon. Opelucid City.**_

"Early this morning, Iris Ajagara was admitted to the Opelucid City Hospital with premature contractions and has, regrettably, miscarried," Wallace read the statement he had penned aloud. "She is now home recovering, and her family asks for privacy during this difficult time. In an unrelated matter, UBN aired an interview this afternoon featuring slanderous remarks against the G-Men. The G-Men had no role in the original study of the Pokérus, and any individual or organization suggesting the G-Men is at fault for the unexpected outbreak has been misled."

A beat of silence followed as the others considered this release, and then Cynthia said, "'Is misinformed.' Not 'has been misled.' Who did the misleading? Not us."

"I agree. Go ahead and make that change," Leaf said. Wallace nodded and crossed the phrase "has been misled," replacing it with Cynthia's edit.

"Why the Pokérus?" Georgia asked. "I thought it was unnamed, and that's why Gary called it Virus X."

"I think a PNN commentator coined it," Trip remarked. "And now everyone's using it."

"Weird," Georgia half-scoffed.

"Cilan, do you have any suggestions?" Wallace inquired, inclining his head toward the distant-eyed male. Cilan focused his gaze again.

"I have nothing to add," he tacitly replied. "My only question... What's our next step after this?"

"Regarding N?" Leaf asked, and Cilan nodded. "Well, I think we'll definitely have to pay another visit to SAMPLe's office in Nimbasa City; the fact they have a member of Team Plasma representing their organization is obviously a concern. PR-wise, there isn't one. These were the remarks of an irrational individual in an organization that was practically unknown until today, and we won't acknowledge them as anything more."

"PR-wise, if we don't talk about it, then I think that'll just spur on the rumor mill and worsen the problem," Paul dissented. "The G-Men haven't been as widely trusted since 2002, and this is a bad blow."

"I think so, too." Several sharp breaths were drawn as Iris appeared in the doorway, unkempt and forlorn in appearance, but the blazing liveliness of her eyes had returned.

"Iris..." Cilan stood up. "Iris, you should be sleeping." He carefully approached her with a ginger hand, but Iris drew back before he could get close.

"No, Cilan—" she began quickly, tersely. "—Don't." He stopped, his eyes wide, and Iris sighed before saying, "I'm sorry. I love you, and I know you have the best intentions, but please, let me talk."

It was then Cilan remembered what she had told him the morning following Torterra's death, and with a twinge of guilt at his own overbearing manner, he stepped back and nodded to her. Leaf was on high alert, unsure of what Iris's end was, while the others wore concerned or troubled expressions.

"I watched the interview with N," Iris went on. "It took me a while to figure out how to find it online, but I did, and I watched the whole thing. I don't want to stay quiet this time."

"Iris," Leaf started, wanting to appeal to her better senses, but Iris quickly cut her off.

"I'm not done," she said shortly. She didn't sound angry—she had exhausted her emotions—but her tone was firm. "Look, I get the appeal of trying to stand on higher ground and not let this stuff get to us, but I think there has to come a point where we have to say something more. Paul was right when he said there are people who already suspect the G-Men, and it's not gonna get any better."

"So are you suggesting a confessional?" Leaf questioned curtly.

"It's not going to stay secret forever."

"It has to, for at least a little bit longer," Leaf insisted.

"Then let's do something to make sure it does." Iris was unwilling to stand down.

Leaf pressed her lips together and folded her arms, shifting her weight to her left hip.

"... So what are your ideas then?" she eventually asked.

"I called Zoey," Iris admitted; she was half-expecting some wry comment about her making a phone call, but none came. "I asked her who the best broadcast journalist was. She said Brian Shriver. I haven't given out a real interview since before my inauguration, and I think I should now. They'd drop anything to interview me, the new Unova Champion, tomorrow."

"Iris," Cynthia said gently, "it's too soon."

"Isn't it better the sooner we address it?" Iris defended.

"I don't mean that," Cynthia amended. "You've just had a miscarriage and surgery. That takes a physical and emotional toll. Let Leaf, if anyone, appear in front of the camera."

Leaf was inclined to agree, but before she could reply, Iris said, "No. It _has_ to be me. This outbreak happened in Unova. This is on me—Adam, Anwir, Summer, and Karina, they're all on me." She added, more quietly, as more of an appeal, "Please. I have to do this."

Cilan drew in a quiet, nervous breath. Leaf, meanwhile, stared. Then, she cleared her throat.

"Brian Shriver, hm?" she repeated.

* * *

May fully expected to find Drew asleep when she returned to their apartment—but Absol's immediate and anxious greeting told her the opposite was happening. May bit her lip and headed back into their bedroom, and sure enough, Drew sat upon the mattress with his laptop before. May sighed, feeling frustration beginning to bubble up her throat.

"Drew!" she called out, getting his attention, and he looked up. "Didn't you see the doctor today? Do you have your prescription?"

"Yes," he answered shortly as he lifted up an unopen medicinal container full of a glowing blue dust—sleeping powder.

"Why aren't you using it?"

"I'm sorry, I can't sleep right now." Drew shook his head. "I had too look into something."

"Into what?"

"SAMPLe, and my father."

"What about them? Do you know something?" May pressed. "They were on the news today, attacking Iris and the others. Did you see?" Drew hesitated to answer, and May cried out in both exasperation and ire, "Don't hide this from me, Drew!"

Finally, Drew pressed his hands to his face, deciding he couldn't keep it from her anymore.

"May, I don't think my father died from skin cancer," he mumbled gravely. "I think he was murdered."

"What?" May straightened up with a horrified jolt. "What makes you think that?"

"I'll show you." He lowered his hands and pushed his laptop away from him. "No, I'll show all of you."

* * *

"So a Persian and a Buneary, huh?" Clemont mused, looking at several pictures of the afflicted Pokémon laid before him. After taking in the grotesque images, he glanced up at Leaf and asked, "Do you have the exact heights and weights?"

Ash and his group had returned to Iris's office, after Leaf had put in a call to them to inform them they needed the first batch of copies of Clemont's low-tech invention. Ash's attention, however, was far away from the conversation at hand; both his and Pikachu's eyes were, instead, on Iris and Cilan, who sat in their own distinguished area, his hand on hers as he murmured something to her. Ash could hardly believe they were around after what happened, and he wished he knew what to say.

Iris eventually noticed his gaze and looked at him an uncertain smile. Ash offered the same expression.

"I can get them," Leaf said. "It'll be no problem. How much will the materials cost you? I can write you a check now."

"Er..." Clemont paused, adjusting his glasses. "Just give me a few minutes. I could figure it out, I think." He searched for something to write with in his pockets, and eventually, Cynthia plucked a black pen out of a jar on Iris's desk and handed it to him. Clemont sheepishly thanked her and immediately busied himself, working out the calculations.

The door creaked open, and Agent Murray slipped inside. He approached both Leaf and Paul.

"Drew Hayden and May Maple are here too see you all," he informed them in a low voice. "He's very insistent. Should I bring them up?"

"Ugh, Arceus..." Leaf threw her head back.

"Yeah, sure," Paul answered, and Leaf cast him an incredulous look.

Just as Clemont was finishing carrying the last one, the door opened more fully, and in came a rather peeved, though ill-looking Drew plus a worried May. Their arrival drew several surprised stares, but Leaf intercepted them.

"This really isn't a good time," she said quietly.

"Are you talking about SAMPLe right now?" Drew ignored her statement and said this purposefully louder than Leaf's mumble, so others would hear. This caught her off guard, and she looked annoyed. May nearly looked embarrassed.

"Not right now, no," she answered him. "We were talking about it earlier."

"Well, you should be talking about it right now." Drew had now commanded the room's attention. Even Clemont had quit working to look up.

"Okay... ?" Leaf turned her head.

Drew sucked in a quick breath.

"Leaf, do you know what SAMPLe stands for?"

"Wh-" Leaf looked exasperated, but Drew did't let her finish the thought.

"Just answer the question."

Leaf looked and sounded disgruntled when she finally answered, "I don't."

"Does anyone in here know?" He added, almost as an afterthought. "Not counting you, May."

Silence. All eyes were on him.

"Figures." Drew shook his head. "Stopping Abuse and Motivating Pokémon Liberation. A relatively normal name for a Pokémon rescue, right?" He paused, then added, "Let's take a closer look." He turned toward the new white dry-erase board that had the names of the now twenty-one trainers who had been attacked and infected. For names were crossed out in red.

"Hope this isn't important," he said flippantly, picking up a pen. He wrote out the entire name of SAMPLe and underlined all the parts of acronym: Stopping Abuse and Motivating Pokémon Liberation

"The 'e' in SAMPLe is lower case because it actually comes from the middle of the word 'Liberation,'" Drew explained, glancing back at the others. "It's an anomaly. All the other parts of the acronym come from the first letters of every word—except for one."

He tapped the back end of his marker against the written "and."

"So, then—" He nearly sounded breathless. "—Let's have a little fun with this. Let's just, because we can, do this."

He erased the underline beneath the "e" with his finger, then blotted out the "a" in "and," replacing it with a capital "A": Stopping Abuse And Motivating Pokémon Liberation. He stepped back and allowed his audience to observe this step before taking his entire sleeved arm to the board, erasing all the letters that weren't underlined: SAAMPL.

"So that's what we're left with," Drew said with a heavy breath, gesturing toward the new acronym. "Not as cute and clever as SAMPLe, but wholly accurate. But, wait—don't those letters look familiar? Let's try unscrambling them."

Drew returned to the board. He slowly, painstakingly, rewrote each letter in a new order below "SAAMPL," and the end result captured the breaths of every person in that room. Drew set his marker down and stepped back, letting the revelation sink in:

PLASMA.

"In the weeks before my father died," Drew began, his tone full of a strange, sore melancholy, "bruise-like markings began to appear on his skin, and I was told it was his skin cancer. I don't believe that anymore, given that his caretaker Elijah Colress was a 'representative' of SAMPLe, and that his hospice nurses were named Ana and Olivia Hollingshead, or better known as ex-Team Rocket members Annie and Oakley."

"Colress?" Leaf perked up at the name, and she scrambled away, looking for her notebook. "Summer told me before she died that the man who injected the virus into her Pokémon was a 'man of science' and that his name was—" She found it, flipping through the pages, until she found the notes she had taken while interviewing the now late 17-year-old girl. "—Collier. She meant Colress."

Drew stared at her expressionless, and Leaf looked back at him. He then let out an incensed breath.

"Don't you _ever_ fucking dare lock me out again, Leaf Greene." Drew's anger rang clear in his voice as it rose up. "And don't forget that he—" Drew pointed to Ash, who recoiled back in surprise. "—is the reason you—" He directed his finger toward a tight-lipped Leaf. "—and she—" Iris, her gaze averted, was next. "—and he—" Finally, Paul, whose expression remained disaffected. "—stand where you do now, and the reason why you have a prayer of a chance of salvaging the G-Men." Drew paused, taking in a cleansing breath and calming himself. He then added, more softly, "And don't forget the rest of us, either. Don't forget what we did for you, and for each other, and don't forget what we did together."

The silence that followed was thick. May drew in a shaky breath, her arms wrapped around herself. She had seen Drew angry before, but it was nothing compared to this; his grief over his father's death, his frustration with Leaf, both exaggerated by the agitation related to his lack of sleep, had cultivated a fury that even the normally cool-headed Drew could not completely control. Serena, meanwhile, was exchanging a nervous glance with Clemont. Neither could fully understand what was happening—but both knew these were old grievances being dragged to the surface again.

"Team Rocket is connected to Team Plasma now, somehow," Drew continued firmly, offering his final assertion, "and seven years ago, there was something we never found."

_**July 2nd, 2009. Late Evening. New Bark Town.**_

Silver had met several dreamers over the course of his life—Lyra, Leaf, Ash—but he had never been one himself, neither during the day nor the night. Lyra had once inquired what his dreams were, to which he asked, "What kind?"

"Well, I meant the kind of dreams that are, you know, life goals!" Lyra clarified. "But I'm curious what you dream about at night, too."

"I don't have any dreams either way," Silver dismissed.

"Everyone has dreams," Lyra persisted. "They're just—they're the greater things you want out of life, I guess. And as for the other kind of dreams, well, that's just science. You always dream at night, but maybe you just don't remember them."

In that way, Silver was like his brother. Sleep, to him, was a simple necessity, a time-filler, and nothing more. This was why, that night, he didn't know what to make of the dream that descended upon him. When he jolted awake, the visions and sounds of the things he'd seen—familiar faces, familiar voices, a child's cries, his brother's grin—began to fade. Silver reached for a notepad and pen on his dresser, scribbling down the last of the details he had seen:

48 W. Vitam Dr.

It was a street sign, coupled with a house address.

Silver cast a glance toward Lyra, who lied sleeping beside him. He realized he had grown complacent. He had stayed too long, for her, and with the way events were unfolding, it would be a danger to them.

Silver removed his sheets. He couldn't allow that.


	21. XX: In Which Drew's Decision Is Forced

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Chapter XX: In Which Drew's Decision Is Forced

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_**March 1st, 2009. Morning. The Village of Dragons.**_

Cilan immediately knew where to find Iris when he woke up to the discovery she wasn't beside him in bed.

The walk to the village graveyard was a scenic, though chilly one. There, nature hung in limbo between winter and spring. Snow had visited the settlement that year, as it did nearly every year, but it melted in late February, leaving behind a grayed, cold earth that was waiting for the green of the next season to burst from it. Cilan ventured down the the rocky path that led to an open field, where the villagers laid their own to rest.

Sure enough, he saw Iris seated before a grave where the ground was still loose from being moved only a day earlier. She briefly tensed up in surprise when he touched her shoulder, but relaxed when she realized it was him as he sat beside her. Into the gravestone was carved the name Eugenia Iliescu, better known as the now-late Village Elder.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "You had a hard night last night."

Iris pressed her lips together and looked away.

"Yeah," she mumbled. "... I don't think I handle death well."

"Does anyone?"

"I guess not," Iris conceded. Silence fell, and Cilan tried rubbing her back, wanting to offer her a measure of comfort. She suddenly drew in a shaky breath.

"I just wish..." she began slowly. "I just wish she could have stayed on more week. Just one. I've needed her guidance throughout all my life, but with this nomination, I've never needed it more than I needed it now."

Cilan leaned his head against the back of her shoulder and quietly apologized, "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," she said.

"I-"

"It isn't, Cilan," Iris tiredly insisted. "I think we've always known Alder wasn't completely on board."

Cilan's expression showed he wasn't convinced, but he pressed the matter no further. This was not about him and the mistakes he had made; she was the one to suffer the consequences of his blunder, and though it painfully gnawed at him, he thought it best to shelve those feelings of guilt.

"Perhaps you should talk to Drayden," Cilan suggested, but Iris shook her head.

"No," she replied. "I already know what he'd say, or at least what he'd suggest. I know he's upset with Alder, but he doesn't want to wash seventeen years of investment in me down the drain. I don't blame him, exactly."

"Well, both Leaf and Paul want to speak with you, too," Cilan offered. "We're seeing them next week."

"I know." Iris nodded. "But, I mean, I know what they'll want, too. And you—" Iris looked at him again with a subtle, strange smile. "—you're also biased. On the other side, but still." She drew her arms around herself. "I'm sorry. I don't wanna sound bitter." She moved her eyes back toward the grave and sighed, "We should go."

Iris rose to her feet, as did Cilan, and she gently kissed her own fingers before laying them against the tip of the headstone.

"_D__ivangat atma ko shanti,_" she said. "Thank you for everything you've ever done for me."

_**July 3rd, 2009. Morning. New Bark Town.**_

"Silver?" Lyra's call went unanswered as she wandered throughout her apartment, checking each room she passed with hopeless naïvety. It wasn't unusual to wake up and see that Silver was gone—he occasionally left to train or run errands—but her heart sank in her chest, and her stomach turned, when she went to her dresser to change out of her nightwear and discovered his half of the drawer they shared was empty.

"Silver!" She descended down the stairs, her cries growing more desperate. She clung to the idea that maybe she would see him on the sofa, doing some laundry, but no one was there. Instead, a hastily written note sat atop of the coffee table. When Lyra saw it, she snapped it up and scanned over the words. She felt weak in the knees and sank to the sofa behind her.

Tears pricked at her eyes, and she pressed a hand to her face.

She had been so sure he would stay this time.

_**July 3rd, 2009. Morning. Slateport City.**_

Silver suppressed a yawn as he sat alone in the near-empty terminal. Although the summer months often meant increased traveling between the regions, hardly anyone was on their way to Unova with the rising of the Pokérus. His flight, he was sure, would be a small one—much, much smaller than even his last-minute, red-eye trip from Cherrygrove City to Slateport City.

Several muted television sets were mounted on the walls. Each channel was turned to PNN, and he would occasionally look up to check if anything of interest was happening. Of course, Iris's miscarriage and apparent spat between the G-Men and the small rescue SAMPLe were still the hot topics of the day, but with only one statement from one side and an interview from the other, the anchor and the commentators were spinning themselves in circles in the 24-hour need-to-fill cycle.

Then, something caught his eye: It was a promotion for another interview, but not just any interview—the_ first_ interview with Iris Ajagara on a major news network since before the attempt on her life, an interview coming only a day after she had lost her first child. It was to air at 7 p.m. Indigo time, i.e. prime time among the regions.

Silver rubbed his chin, wondering what to make of this move, but decided it wouldn't matter. He would be in Unova, traveling, by the time it aired that evening, and knowing himself, he was unlikely to stop to watch.

"_Flight 31410 is now boarding._" Silver heard the woman's voice over the PA. "_Please approach the attendant's desk with your boarding pass._"

Silver, along with several other people, rose upon the announcement. With his pass clutched in his hand, he was the first to be in line. The attendant, a middle-aged brunette with thin, bright red lips, smiled at him as she took the pass.

"Oscar Soul?" she inquired, glancing back up at him after reading the pass's information.

"Mhm." Silver slid an expertly crafted ID toward her. She compared it to his pass, then smiled again as she scanned in the pass before handing both items back to Silver.

"Enjoy your flight," she said.

_**July 3rd, 2009. Morning. Opelucid City.**_

"Thank you again for doing this," Leaf said, almost sounding sincere, as she led an apprehensive Serena through the Opelucid Gym's living quarters, toward Iris and Cilan's bedroom.

"It's... It's no problem!" Serena assured her with a weak smile. Leaf smiled, too, though more confidently.

"I'd normally ask Dawn—do you know her?—" When Serena nodded, Leaf continued, "I'd normally ask Dawn, since she's a coordinator and is also really great at looking camera-ready, but things are still tense between her and Paul, and she's also busy with the CIU. Supposedly, anyway. You feel?"

Serena gave a modest nod. She didn't know what to make of Leaf. She certainly had an abundance of personality—bursting, bubbling, oozing from the pores on her skin. In that way, she was a lot like Ash, and Gary, for that matter. Pallet Town might have been small, but somehow, it produced the biggest characters. Yet, Leaf wasn't cheerfully carefree like Ash, nor was she impeccably charming like Gary. Rather, there was something mischievous, almost untrustworthy, about her disposition. Maybe it was her eyes; brown was warm and inviting, and green was teasing and playful, but her particular shade of blue was cold, sly even.

Serena couldn't muse on her opinions much longer as Leaf pushed the bedroom door open and gestured for her to enter. Serena carefully did so, unsure of where to go. Then, she noticed, toward her right, the great mirror spanning the wall above a counter that extended at least eight feet long. The well-lit enclave, separated from the bedroom by the dividing line between the carpet and tile, was bookended by two doors—one to a closet, another to the bathroom.

Iris and Cilan were seated in two chairs, both of them obviously pulled from elsewhere in the home, facing each other. His hand had been on her shoulder, but he withdrew it when Serena entered. Serena wasn't sure whether they had been talking or not, but it became clear to her that she had unintentionally stumbled upon an intimate moment of assurance.

"Hello, Serena," Cilan greeted politely. Politeness was all there was to it; the pleasantness that had so welcomed her into their home when she first came to Unova was gone, along with the child he and his wife were still expecting at that time.

"Hi." Serena tried, with only minor success, to flash a friendly smile. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt anything."

"You're quite fine," Cilan assured her, rising to his feet. "I'll let you get to work."

He cast Iris one last saddened empathetic look before leaving. Serena watched him go, feeling a pang of nervousness in her chest as she looked back at Iris, whose head was turned low, acutely angled toward the floor. She knew Iris had miscarried yesterday, and she didn't know how to act in the presence of a woman who was so obviously disconsolate. Although she and Iris had not known each other long, her impression of her was of a subtly feral, though affable liveliness; that vigor had dulled.

"So, um..." Serena set her bag on the counter, next to the sink. "How do you normally style your hair and make-up for this kind of thing?"

"Oh, I don't know." Iris waved her hand dismissively as she lifted her head again. "Elesa just did her own thing when she helped me before my inauguration. I trust you to do what you think would look best. Ash said you would be great, so I'm sure you will be."

"I don't know if Ash is the most qualified judge on who's good at doing hair and make-up," Serena said.

That got a laugh out of Iris—a hollow one, but it was a laugh nevertheless.

"True," she conceded.

Serena pressed her fingers against her lips, giving Iris a once-over—then a twice-over, then a thrice-over—trying to decide what she should do. Inspiration struck, and she pulled her curling iron out of her bag and plugged it into the wall. While it heated up, Serena looked over the few options of Iris's personal cosmetics either she, or Cilan, or Leaf, or _someone_, had laid out for Serena's use. She opted for the dark, powdered concealer first.

"You know—" Serena decided it was better to strike up a conversation than to let the silence breed Iris's sadness. "—I'm half-surprised Leaf was willing to take Ash's recommendation. She seems cautious of us."

"Leaf is very protective," Iris thoughtlessly defended. "She tries to look out for me a lot, because I'm still a new Champion. Both Paul and I are. It can be grating, even for me, but try not to let it bother you too much."

"What about Ash then?" Serena could feel her own curiosity, never failing to wriggle to the forefront of her mind, emerge again as she powdered her brush.

"That's a different story," Iris said, automatically closing her eyes as Serena bent down near her face. "It's almost like she's trying to protect Ash, too, in a way."

"From becoming Champion?"

"No, not exactly..." Iris trailed off. "It's more like she wants to make sure he's okay _if_ he becomes Champion. ... It's weird to think of Ash as Champion, doing what the three of us do. Although, I know he's a great trainer, maybe a little childish, but I think I've always known he was going places. I guess the thought of Leaf _not_ being Champion is what actually weirds me out."

Serena had nothing to say in response, but nevertheless mulled over these words. She had to admit, as confusing and perverted as Napajian politics were, they were also fascinating—if only because one of her dearest friends was at risk for becoming tied up in them. He already was; her interest in him and his connection to the G-Men had been piqued years ago.

She drew away. The dark, sleepy circles beneath Iris's eyes had diminished, thanks to Serena's hand. She set aside the concealer and went for the blush.

"Where did you learn to do this anyway?" Iris asked suddenly.

"Hm?" Serena intoned curiously, now applying the blush.

"Where did you learn to do hair and make-up?" Iris clarified.

"Oh!" Serena recovered from her brief stint of embarrassment, then answered, "Probably similar to how your friend Dawn did: mostly self-taught. I used to perform in Pokémon Showcases—I still do, sometimes. They're a _little_ bit like contests, not quite, but you get the chance to show off your Pokémon's abilties, and you dress up, too."

"That sounds cool." Iris smiled weakly. "What do you do now, then?"

"School," Serena answered. She traded the blush for the mascara. "I once attended beauty school, but it wasn't what I wanted to do. I now go to a university in my hometown."

"What are you studying?" Iris asked.

"Business."

"Business?" It clearly wasn't what Iris would have expected, and Serena picked up on that.

"My dream is to open a boutique in Lumiose City, specifically for people interested in Pokémon Showcases," Serena explained. Iris flinched when Serena gently touched her face to apply the mascara, but soon relaxed.

"Oh, you know what, that actually sounds similar to what Dawn's doing," Iris remarked distractedly. "She's studying fashion design, I think."

"Yeah, similar," Serena said. "Dawn is the person who designs the clothes. I curate them."

"Mm..." Iris's hum tapered off into an extended silence, neither no longer knowing what to say. Serena finished up her work with the make-up, then reached for the brush to smooth out Iris's hair. Once this task was completed, she picked up the curling iron, hovering her hand above the iron to check whether it had sufficiently heated up; it had.

"... Could I ask you a strange question?" Iris asked when Serena wound the first section of her long, dark hair around the heated cylinder.

"Uh, sure!" Serena blinked.

"Do you think what I'm doing is a bad idea?" Iris went on. "You can be honest."

Serena was silent for a while, thinking. She unraveled Iris's first curl, then answered, "I think it's very, very brave."

"Brave?"

"Well, I think—" Serena paused, struggling with how to sensitively word her elaboration, as she did a second curl. "—I think a lot of people, after going through what you did, would want to disappear, and I don't blame them. But here you are, about to go on national television."

"Believe me, I'd like to disappear," Iris said in a low, morose voice. "I'm only here because of my responsibilities." She then shook her head and added more dispassionately, "Sorry. I didn't mean to sound so depressing. Truthfully, I'm tired of being coddled, and I wanted a chance to stand up for myself. I kind of see this as a way to do that."

Serena said nothing, moving onto the next curl.

"I guess it's partially my fault," Iris admitted after a moment. "The things I've done, or really, the things I haven't done, have forced Paul and Leaf to step up for me. ... I think they were wrong; I should have never accepted my nomination and become Champion. It's caused a lot of trouble for people—for Leaf and Paul, and for Cilan."

"Don't talk down to yourself like that," Serena said gently. She was surprised Iris was opening up to her, but perhaps it made sense. She was an outsider; she was someone whose perspective had little internal influences. "Maybe I can't speak in this area, so I'll apologize in advance—but you are the Champion now, for better or for worse. I think all you can do is try to make the best of a hard situation. Do what you can to make things better and say sorry when you mess up."

Iris was silent for a while, considering these words as Serena continued working, though Serena began to worry if Iris had somehow taken offense. Then, Iris said, "Yeah, I guess that's true. ... Really true, actually." She tilted her head slightly, offering Serena a smile—a genuine one. "Thanks."

"Uh... sure thing!" Serena was caught off guard, but she smiled, too. Once finished using the curling iron, she used a butterfly clip to pin back half of Iris's hair, and stepped away. "There. What do you think?"

Iris glanced in the mirror.

"It looks great—Ash wasn't wrong. Thank you."

Serena nodded at her, and Iris seemed to hesitate before casting her gaze down again.

"Would you be willing to do me a favor?" she inquired. Confusion crossed Serena's expression, but she agreed. Iris continued, "Would you... be willing to go find Paul and tell him to come talk to me. Just him and I, for now."

* * *

"Do you honestly think this will help anything?" Leaf murmured under her breath to Paul, as the two stood off to the side in Iris's office, where a PNN crew was setting up lighting and cameras for the interview it would soon record. Paul flicked his eyes toward her.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I still do think it's better than not saying anything, so yes, I guess. Regardless, I think Iris has things she needs to say."

"Fair," Leaf conceded. She paused and then added, as an afterthought, "When this is over, we should go back out to Nimbasa City to visit SAMPLe."

"Not necessary," Paul dismissed. "Angela went out to Nimbasa City to pick up a Pokémon the trainer worries is infected. A Zigzagoon, I think? Anyway, I gave her the address and told her to check it out under the guise of a paranoid, conspiratorial citizen interested in the organization after seeing the interview with N on UBN."

"Sneaky," Leaf mused with a tone of commendation.

"I spend too much time with you," Paul grumbled.

"Is Agent Gray any good at acting?" Leaf asked.

"I don't know." Paul shrugged. "Better than me, probably."

"Of course she's better than you, but is she better than me?"

"No one's better at it than you," Paul mumbled, deciding it was better to entertain her pride than attempt to deflate it. He supposed it was true, anyway. He had never met a better liar than Leaf.

Before the new conversation could foray into new territory, a gentle, hesitant voice interrupted them from behind. "Excuse me?" Both Leaf and Paul turned their heads to see Serena. "Hi, um, Paul right?" He nodded. "Iris was wanting to talk to you."

Paul pursed his lips cautiously, but eventually agreed, "All right."

He brushed past her, out of the office, down the hallway, and into the main living quarters. He entered into Iris and Cilan's bedroom, and then went to the mirror in front of which she sat. She saw him approach in the reflection, and she turned her chair to face him.

"Hi." Iris forced a weak smile.

"The Kalosian brunette said you wanted to see me," Paul said plainly.

"Serena," Iris corrected; she would sound terse if she weren't tired. "Her name is Serena."

Paul craned an eyebrow, but he didn't let her remarks faze him.

"Serena said you wanted to see me," he amended. Iris nodded, confirming, then rubbed her hands together, nervously so, and she directed her eyes away from him.

"I, um..." She was still figuring out what to say. "I wanted to apologize to you. I need to apologize to both you and Leaf, but I think I need to start with you."

Paul blinked.

"... Okay?" He didn't know how to respond, and Iris took in a deep breath.

"I know you've taken so much time out of your life to be here in Unova and help me get on my feet," she began, "and I don't think I've been grateful enough for that, and for the sacrifices both you and Leaf have made for me."

"You've said you're grateful," Paul pointed out.

"But I haven't _shown_ it," Iris emphasized with a guilty sigh. "I've been wasting your time because of my own selfishness and stubbornness."

"What are you getting on?" Paul wasn't sure where she was going with this, or why she felt so strongly compelled to ask for his forgiveness. If there was anyone who needed to apologize to her for mistakes made, it was him. The thought had occurred to him that if he hadn't blundered in conflating Iris's iron deficiency with poison, she might not have gone to the hospital, and they might not have had to announce so early, too early, that she was pregnant.

Then they wouldn't have had to say she wasn't anymore.

"I've been purposefully putting off hiring the Chief of the Unova G-Men," Iris clarified repentantly, "and I'm sorry."

"... Well, I think with everything that's been happening, it hasn't been your or anyone's number one priority," Paul offered her.

"But it should be, because of everything that's been happening," Iris persisted. "Leaf is great, but she can't do it on her own, and you and I are still learning. And even with Cynthia and Wallace around, it's been hard... I just think, maybe, we need someone who has a lot of experience in this, someone who isn't a 20-something still trying to figure everything out, and someone who's never had to worry so much about the 'showiness' of the Champion title."

"Who are you suggesting?"

Iris pressed her lips together, hesitating.

"When I tell you, will you promise to keep an open mind?" she asked. "I know Leaf is not going to like it, and I can completely understand why, but it would still mean a lot to me if you would back me up."

"Fine," Paul gruffly agreed, attempting to suppress his own impatience. "Just tell me who it is."

Iris sucked in a spoonful of air and breathed out the name:

"Erol Adalet."

* * *

Waking up that morning, for Drew, was like coming up for a much-needed breath of air after two minutes beneath the surface. He sat up slowly, carefully, still sore; although he had finally managed to get the sleep he so desperately needed, his body was still recovering from the two days—rather, two weeks—of hellish unrest. He moved his hands to his lower back, kneading out a hardened kink, before rising to his feet.

May was sitting out in the apartment's small kitchen, one hand propping up her head, her other twirling a spoon through a barely-touched glass of chocolate milk. Her eyes were cast downward, toward the table, as if she found the wood markings fascinating in some manner.

"Good morning." Drew kissed her before heading toward the cabinet, retrieving bread for toast.

"Morning," May replied with a weak smile. "How did you sleep?"

"Amazingly well." Drew was noticeably in a better mood. "The medication got me there, but I think airing my grievances with Leaf last night helped."

"That's... good." May was noticeably in a worse one. Drew perked up and cast her a wary look.

"Is something the matter?" he asked.

May paused; her hand stopped the spinning motion, and she pulled it back toward herself with a sigh.

"Casper Eadward called again this morning," she said, and Drew stiffened. "He said he couldn't find any information on Ana and Olivia—probably because Ana and Olivia are actually Annie and Oakley—but he wants you to call him back, because he needs to discuss 'your estate.'"

May slowly raised her eyes toward Drew again.

"What did your father leave you?" she asked.

Silence followed. Drew's hands were frozen upon the bread tie he was in the middle of undoing, and he couldn't continue, not with May's gaze locked upon him. He eventually sighed, too.

"Everything."

"Excuse me?"

"Everything," Drew repeated. "His home property, his business, his bank account—everything."

May was definitely surprised, but she did not want to let an emotional reaction dictate the rest of the conversation. She folded her hands.

"Why wouldn't you tell me?" she asked, quietly.

"Well, I—" Drew hesitated. "I was never going to keep any of it."

"And that's fine," May tacitly replied. "I'm just confused why you never told me. Did you think I would be upset?"

"No, it's just..." Drew trailed off. "It was complicated—it still is complicated. I didn't want to drag you into it, especially with SAMPLe involved."

May looked no more assured, the disquieted smolder in her blue eyes never wavering in their subtle disapproval. Drew dropped his hand and heaved a breath, saying, "You're mad."

"I'm not mad," May corrected. "But..."

"But what?" Drew pressed. May paused, thinking as she lightly touched the edge of her glass of milk.

"Drew," she began carefully, though firmly, "you and I have known each other for about ten years, and you've been my best friend for almost just as long. I understand there are things that you want to keep to yourself, especially when it comes to your family, and I want to be respectful of that. But this..." May closed her eyes and sucked in her breath. She soon continued, "I'm glad you're feeling better now, but it really, _really_ scares me when you get to be like how you were the past couple of days."

Drew was silent, but he was listening attentively.

"I don't get what your end was by keeping me out of the loop, but it makes me feel like you don't trust me," May went on. "And I want you to trust me, because I see a future in you and I, Drew—a long, long future." She refused to say the word both knew she intended. "I don't know if you see the same thing, but-"

"-I do," Drew hastily interjected. "I do see a future in us."

"Then_ please_ show me you do." It was less of a desperate plea and more of a request. "It's so frustrating, because you've been getting so mad at Leaf for pushing the CIU away, and then here you are doing the same thing to me, and I love you, but it's-"

"-Hypocritical," Drew finished for her quietly with an understanding nod. "It's hypocritical."

May guiltily cast her eyes down again.

"Maybe I'm being unreasonable," she conceded.

"You're not," Drew firmly said. He pulled a chair up beside her and sat in it. His hand reached for her knee, and when his touch gained her gaze, he said, "I'm sorry. I should have told you."

May cracked a weak smile.

"Thanks," she said. She paused for a long moment before asking, "Do you really see a future in us?"

He smiled, too.

"More than you'd believe," he answered. May's smile widened, and her hand moved up to his shoulder so she could pull him in for a kiss, one that was a touch more fervent than usual.

"I love you," she said after pulling away, her face still hovering mere inches away from him.

"I love you, too."

May cheerful disposition had mostly returned as she pushed her chair away and stood up.

"Thanks for talking with me. I'm going to take a shower," she announced. "And then I'll get dressed, so we can get down to the office. I'll catch you up on everything you've missed."

Drew's expression changed. His features grew darker as his smile diminished, and he soon averted his gaze.

"May..." he began soberly. "I think going on with the CIU would be..."

"Would be what?"

"Wasting everyone's time," Drew said bluntly. "The G-Men were trashed yesterday, and we're tied to that. We've lost momentum, and I think with the Pokérus getting bigger and bigger, it would be in bad taste to hold a public battling event in Unova, where concerns about getting infected are pretty high right now."

May's face fell.

"But what about Iris?"

"What about her?"

May stared with a frown. She was disconcerted Drew didn't seem to understand, but she decided not to press the matter.

"Nothing, " May eventually dismissed. "I just hope she's okay."

"She will be," Drew assured her, "with time." May pressed her lips together.

"I didn't mean... well, anyway, I'm going to take a shower." May backed down from the issue again and started toward the bathroom. Drew watched her go, now sensing something was awry again, and he cleared his throat.

"Hey May," he said.

She stopped.

"Mhm?" She tossed him a look over her shoulder.

"If we're being open and honest here..." He paused, apprehensive of how he should proceed. "... Max and I... we... we both think that Wallace is trying to recruit you as Champion. That's why Max stayed. We didn't tell you, because we didn't want to freak you out."

Drew held his breath, waiting for her to dissolve into panic attack. ("How could they pick her to be Champion? She had never showed any interest! She wasn't even a league-competitive trainer!") But it never happened—instead she merely stared at him, her eyes filling with both realization and, strangely enough, guilt. She looked away.

"I know," she said quietly.

Her response caught Drew off guard.

"W-What?" he sputtered.

"I know that Wallace is trying to recruit me," May clarified calmly. "I didn't know you and Max knew and were talking about it, but yeah."

"Did Wallace talk to you?" Drew asked.

"No." May shook her head and smiled weakly. "I figured it out on my own, eventually. To be honest, I was starting to wonder if Wallace was going to find someone new, and when he arrived in Unova and started coming around, I started thinking it would be you, and that made sense to me. At some point, I kind of realized it was _me_ he was after. I guess I didn't tell you because I didn't want to make things worse for you, with you not sleeping..."

She wrung her hands together and lifted her eyes toward him, adding, "I guess that makes me a hypocrite, too, huh?"

* * *

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Cilan inquired of Iris anxiously, touching her wrist, when she finally came to her office; the crew had finished arranging the set, and they were ready for her.

"No, but I'm not going to be talked out of it," Iris said frankly. Before any further words could be exchanged between the couple, Iris was approached by a well-dressed and handsomely aged male, who wore a careful, though friendly smile that graciously restrained the more bold, overwhelming aspects of his personality.

"You look lovely, Ms. Ajagara," Brian Shriver, the man who would interview her, said as he extended a hand to her. "It's an honor you've decide to speak to us, especially considering recent events in your life."

Iris nodded, shaking his hand, but said, "Thank you for doing this so last minute."

"I'm not sure you grasp how valuable your voice is," Shriver said honestly. "Regardless of the public perceptions, positive or negative, I would venture to say there is not a person in this country whom everyone is more anxious to hear speak than you, moreso than even Mr. Rebolledo." Iris's tilted her head lower, looking cautious, and he added, "The point is, we have a vested interest in making sure you're comfortable, and that neither you nor your fellow leaders feel that you've been treated unfairly."

'So that Paul will hopefully interview with you, too,' Iris silently, indifferently, realized. "Did Leaf talk to you?"

"Yes." Shriver nodded. "She made the conditions of you speaking with us clear. We will ask no questions about yesterday morning. You are free to address it on your own terms, if you so choose."

"Thank you." Iris unconsciously drew her hands toward herself, toward her lower abdomen, now painfully empty. Cilan eyed her warily.

"Did you have a chance to review the questions we do have pre-prepared?" Shriver inquired. When Iris nodded, he continued, "Then, if you're ready, we can get started."

Iris nodded again and followed him toward the two chairs set up before the cameras; Iris's desk had been pushed out of the shots, for a more scenic background view of the window that stretched down the wall. Brian sat tall, redoubtably so, and Iris, crossing her legs, forced herself to at least try to match his stature. A few more minutes passed as the cameras were adjusted to best frame Iris and Shriver. Cilan stationed himself with Leaf and Paul off to the side.

"Ready, Ms. Ajagara?" one of the cameramen asked.

"Yes," Iris said simply, shortly.

"Then cameras on in 3... 2... 1..."

As soon as the cameras began rolling, Shriver began to speak, "Ms. Ajagara, thank you for sitting down with us today."

Several possible replies rose in her throat, but they jumbled together and became stuck. She stumbled past several disjointed beginnings, through which Shriver patiently waited. Cilan worriedly pressed his fist to his mouth. Leaf shook her head and made a remark to Paul, the words of which Iris could read on her lips: "She can't do this. It's too soon."

Determination, incited by frustration—toward herself, toward everyone who doubted her, toward her situation—burned through the mass of fragmented words suffocating her, and a smoky, though commanding voice shredded through.

"No, thank you," Iris finally said. A beat of silence followed as her company now adjusted to accommodate for her sudden demands of respect.

"Ms. Ajagara," Shriver continued after a moment, "ever since May 6th, when Barret Dunstan attempted to kill you during your inauguration, you've had very limited interaction with the media. Why speak now, of all times?"

Iris smoothed her hands over lap, thinking. She had read this question already, but the answer she had conjured (or rather, the answer Leaf had suggested) an hour earlier—she was normally a more private person, but the remarks N had made on another news station compelled her to speak—no longer seemed genuine.

"You know," Iris began calmly, almost coolly, "I stayed quiet about it for a while, because I didn't know what to say, and I thought there were people who could speak on my behalf so much better than I could. Doing that meant giving up control of how I want to show myself and how I want people to see me, though, and I decided I wanted to speak for myself, and speak up against the things that have been said about me. So here I am."

* * *

There had been hard days going into the office. Worse than hard, really; the morning after Torterra's death had been downright miserable. Yet, May had never found herself with a particular longing to not go to work, to stay in bed and try again the next day. She loved the other staffers and she loved the job, even if it was tedious and stressful at times.

It wasn't until that morning, however, that she felt, for the first time, that she had to drag herself to the CIU, on what she worried might be its last day. As she would have expected, the arrived staffers were already busily making their way down their daily to-do list, unaware of their uncertain future.

May practically collapsed in her chair next to Max and laid her head down on the desk. He perked up in alarm and swiveled his chair away from his computer, toward her.

"Hey, what's the matter?" he asked, poking her shoulder.

"Politics," May mumbled dejectedly.

"Politics?" Max blinked. Then, a thought occurred to him, and he looked troubled. "Oh..." Before he press her for elaboration, another voice called out in the office:

"Hey, hey! She's here!" Barry exclaimed from afar, before practically dragging Kenny by the arm to see her. Dawn and Zoey heard, too, and both also made their way toward May from their desks. Barry continued, "We were wondering when you'd come. I heard Drew had it out with Leaf last night, and that it was pretty epic."

"I guess you could say that," May said hesitantly. "Who told you?"

"I was texting Ritchie last night, and he kind of talked about it," Dawn admitted. "What happened, exactly?"

"It's a lot to explain," May replied, and the apprehension in her companions' faces grew. Their impression from Ritchie's texts was whatever had happened in Iris's office yesterday had been good**—**better than good; a grandiose, shining moment of Drew's brilliance—but May's behavior said otherwise.

"What's got you so down?" Kenny asked her. "Where is Drew, anyway?"

"He said he had an errand to run."

"What errand?" Zoey asked.

"He didn't specify." May shook her head, and her three companions exchanged quick, worried glances.

"May, what's going on?" Kenny implored her. May pressed her lips together, hesitating again. It wasn't her place to talk about it, but it felt wrong to leave her friends in the dark.

"Drew... wants to dissolve the CIU," she finally confessed, catching the others off guard.

"What?! Wait, no—" Barry sputted. "He can't do that!"

"Why is he?" Max asked, having listened in on the conversation and finding himself almost, if not equally, as upset as his senior staffers.

"The virus," May answered simply. "I guess he thinks it would be bad timing to try to promote contests in Unova right now."

"Well, the region kind of is a trainwreck," Zoey conceded. "Dawn can attest to it: Candice calls me almost every day asking if I've been infected yet. I think she's only half-joking."

"I still wouldn't want him to _shut down_ the CIU, though," Dawn insisted. She then added more flippantly, "He's overreacting. All the work we've put in, all the time—we _moved_ here—he wouldn't throw it away, would he?"

May knew he would, but she couldn't tell them that. She couldn't say she blamed Drew, either. The special contest, scheduled exactly three weeks away to the day, did seem like a looming disaster with the growing prominence of the Pokérus. Still, she realized the cost of human investment was huge, bigger than she could have imagined. Iris wasn't the only one depending on the CIU: It was the springboard Zoey needed for her career; it was the second chance Barry needed after losing the opportunity of his life; it was the connection and distraction Dawn needed to and from Paul, whom she undoubtedly still loved.

For May, it was the excuse she needed. She could not be sucked into any other responsibilities if she already had them. In that way, she selfishly wanted more time, so she could think. But to get more time, she needed to assuage Drew's fears, and she didn't have the power to do that herself.

"I don't know." May thumbed over the screen of her phone. "I don't know."

* * *

"I guess I appreciated it, having Drew to point me like that," Ash mused aloud to Misty, in response to a question she'd asked him. "But I dunno. I want to be involved, but I don't want to be involved for the wrong reasons."

Only Misty seemed to understand the vague meaning of his ending sentence; Bonnie pursed her lips and looked at him confusedly while Ritchie blinked and furrowed his eyebrows, considering what Ash could have possibly thought were "the wrong reasons." Clemont wasn't paying attention; he was engrossed in finishing up his second job enlisted by the G-Men. Buneary's cage was already completed, but Persian's was larger and more a chore, and his companions could only help him under his direction.

"I don't think Drew wants you to be pulled in like that," Misty assured him. "He was making a point to Leaf, and he wasn't wrong, either. And anyway, like I've already told you, Leaf has taken pains to make sure you're not treated as 'chosen.' I know what N said yesterday, but believe me, that match wasn't put off so she could push you out."

"Yeah... N..." Ash mumbled.

"That's right!" Bonnie exclaimed. "That's why we came in the first place, so you could talk to him. What was that guy all about, anyway?"

"Dunno. He was kind of a mystery," Ash replied. "I feel bad about it. That's something I _would_ like to help in. N wanted to talk to me. Maybe he'd talk to me again, if we could find him. But the only person who, I think, would have a clue about where he lives is missing, too."

"Who?" Bonnie spoke up, almost sounding impatient.

"You mean Silver, don't you?" Misty understood. She now spoke reservedly.

Ash lowered his head.

"Yeah," he mumbled in response. He half-hoped she wouldn't pick up on what he meant, but there was little he could get past Misty.

"Silver, your brother?" The group perked up and turned to see that Serena had rejoined them; her brow was misted with a trickle of sweat from walking in the humid city heat. "N said he knew him, didn't he?"

"Uh, yeah," Ash answered in surprise. "He did." He quickly changed the subject. "How did it go? With Iris, I mean."

"Oh..." Serena sat beside him on the bench. "Okay, I guess. She seemed pretty distant."

"I don't know if you could really expect anything else," Ritchie said. He gave her a once-over. "Didn't someone give you a ride?"

"Agent Murray did in the morning, yes." Serena nodded. "But he left to pick someone up at the airport, I think?"

"Pick someone up... ?" Realization crossed Ash's face, and he grinned as he exchanged a look with Misty and they simultaneously said, "Brock."

"You called?"

The timing couldn't have been more poetic. Brock approached from afar, a bag slung over his shoulder, with Agent Murray not far behind. Ash jumped to his feet, and Misty stood almost as quickly. Brock grinned, too, as the three met again, Ash nearly tackling him with a hug, and Misty soon joined as Brock draped an arm around her shoulder.

"Dang, I know it hasn't been that long, but I'm so glad to see you again," Ash said, beaming.

"No kidding," Misty added. "I'm glad Leaf followed through on you!"

"Good to be here—glad to help," Brock said with a laugh.

Serena rose to her feet again, watching the trio carefully with an estranged expression.

* * *

One of Drew's hands was fisted in his pocket as he pressed the "up" button to elevator in the office complex. Even with several hours to think it over, he still didn't what he would say to his staff—how he would break the news. He supposed there were other issues he would have to address first, including calling both Raoul Contesta and Don George to apologize. There were a lot of people they would need to call, actually; in fact, it would buy the CIU several more days of work just to disseminate everything they had put into place thus far.

It made his stomach turn.

The elevator doors opened, and he stepped inside.

"What floor?"

The familiarity of the voice caught Drew off guard, and he looked to see Leaf hovering near the control pad, her arms folded as she leaned against the wall of elevator.

"Arceus—" he began in shock. Then, his tone took an angrier turn. "What are you doing here?"

"Good morning to you, too, Drew," she greeted with sarcastic pleasantness. "Or rather, afternoon now. I'm here to talk to you, of course."

Drew tried to step back out of the elevator, but she hit the button to close the doors. He fell back, looking annoyed.

"I don't want to talk," he grumbled. "Today's not exactly what you would call a great week, and I just spend a lot of money hoping to make it better."

"Why, because you plan on shutting down the CIU?" Leaf asked.

Drew's brow shot up.

"Where did you hear that?" he demanded.

"I had my suspicions."

"Don't give me that." He glowered at her.

"Look, it's not important," Leaf dismissed. She unraveled her arms and sighed. "Drew, I know you think you don't owe me any favors, but I'm asking for one anyway."

"No," Drew said before she could even finish.

"I don't just want you to establish a coordinating branch in Unova. I need you to," Leaf pressed on anyway. "Don't buckle now because you're afraid of the virus."

"Do you think this is somehow easy for me?" Drew threw back at her, exasperated. "I'm going to be letting a lot of people down—the staff, the volunteers, Don George, Raoul Contesta, the entire coordinating community. I don't want to dissolve the CIU, not with all our hard work, but it is the responsible thing to do. This virus is evidently dangerous. Pursuing another branch for contests in Unova now would be ill-timed. The CIU can be revisited—maybe in a year, maybe two—but we have to step away for now."

Leaf shook her head.

"By then it would be too late," she said.

"Too late for what?"

"For Iris," Leaf answered shortly. "These first few months, up to the Vertress Conference, are going to solidify her reputation, which is not off to a great start, as you might have noticed. If the CIU folds, that's another strike against her."

Drew let out a breath and threw back his head.

"Look, I feel for Iris. I really do. She's a friend, and I feel awful about the situation" he said. "But it will look just as bad, if not worse, for her if we, say, hold this special contest later this month, and we see this virus spread to the competitors' Pokémon. Maybe you think I sound paranoid, but it's a real, and it's a scary possibility I have to consider."

"You will have the G-Men." Leaf tried to assure him. "We will do everything to give the resources and manpower to prevent a localized outbreak."

"Oh, so now the G-Men wants to work with us," Drew scoffed.

"Yes, it does." Leaf presented no false pretenses there. "Look, I don't agree with you on everything, but yesterday, you were right. I should not have forced you and the CIU out of the loop."

"You only say that now because I solved the SAMPLe-PLASMA puzzle," Drew mumbled accusingly.

"And so what?" Leaf resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "I got your message, loud and clear, when you verbally stuck your middle finger up at me last night. I'm sorry, and now I want to be more transparent."

"That's nice, but this isn't all about you or the G-Men," Drew retorted. "Raoul Contesta entrusted me with this job, and I still think dissolving the CIU, for now, is the best choice."

Leaf was becoming frustrated herself. But for some reason, this last statement was what triggered a change in her eyes, in her tone, as leaned closer to him, almost threateningly.

"And who do you think whispered your name into Raoul Contesta's ear?" she said in a low voice.

Drew stared. He moved back, re-establishing the space previously between them.

"You were the person who recommended me?"

Leaf smiled wryly.

"Don't forget that the APC and the league have one of the longest-standing relationships in all of the country, and that when the G-Men have said we needed the APC to do something, it's done it," she said. "Raoul told you to respect that history, didn't he?"

Drew could hardly believe it, and it showed in his expression.

"Why?"

Although the question was vague, Leaf understood what he meant, and she stared, too. Then, she sighed again.

"Iris... _needed_ something."

_**March 8th, 2009. Morning. Indigo Plateau.**_

For many years, Iris; Leaf; and Paul all silently knew that their paths would wind together in an uncertain future, one in which their mentors seemed to believe they—together—could somehow make the grand, sweeping changes needed to protect them from ever again coming so close to yielding the power of their seats to a man like Giovanni Paul. In those same years, though, the three never spoke about what loomed ahead, for fear their words would condemn them.

Only now, after both Paul and Leaf had clinched their titles, did they and Iris finally convene to speak openly about what was previously only conveyed in pointed looks and vague insinuations.

"I swear to Mew, if I had the opportunity to punch Alder square in the face, I would," Leaf said with exasperation, standing at the front of her own office, her hands clasping the edges of the desk against which she leaned back. "I honestly can't believe he would put you in this situation."

Throughout the sofas and chairs in her room were scattered Paul, Iris, and Cilan. Paul's head leaned on his hand, already tired by the conversation, while Iris and Cilan were seated near to other; she appeared shrunken—sleep had been unkind to her in its most recent visits—but Cilan sat straight, maintaining a careful, distant poise. Yet, his green eyes carried a heavier emotion easily read by those who paid attention.

"I honestly can't believe Drayden let it happen," Paul grumbled.

"Drayden's mad," Iris offered them. "I know that."

"Alder can be a loose cannon," Cilan added. "He was caught off guard by Alder deciding to retire now, just as much as we were."

"Well, being mad doesn't help," Leaf bitterly mumbled.

"But what will help? What can I do?" Iris asked. She hesitated before amending, "What _should_ I do?" She had been near-begging for the answer to these questions, and its variants, over the past several weeks, from almost anyone and everyone who would give her advice—from her husband, to Lance and Clair, to Trip, to her brothers-in-law, to now Leaf and Paul. She had declined to talk to Drayden about it, perhaps as a silent, short-lived grudge, and the people with whom she truly wished she could speak lied beneath the ground.

Leaf let out a long breath but didn't answer. Neither did Paul.

"Do you guys really need me?" Iris tacked on yet another question.

"The other option is Grimsley," Leaf said plainly. It was a "yes," and Iris sucked in her breath before nodding and looking down.

"... How bad is it, anyway, to go from being a gym leader to being a Champion?" she asked.

"You'd be the first," Paul said. It was a "bad."

"You can't honestly expect her to subject herself to this," Cilan broke in. "They'll eat her alive; they'll eat both of us."

"Yeah, we know you've never been on the side of Iris being Champion," Leaf said, a little sharply, and Cilan winced.

"Leaf," Iris snappishly reproved her, and Paul also cast her a warning glance. Leaf sighed.

"Sorry," she said. "... There's no doubt there will be questions. There's no doubt there will be doubts. But I think if we do things right, then those things will fade with time. ... I do have a plan, one that will prove to Unova, and to the rest of Napaj, that you are the right person to become Champion and that Alder's choice was a good one."

"... Okay," Iris agreed.

"What?" Her response seemed to catch Leaf by surprise. The same happened for both Cilan and Paul.

"Okay," Iris repeated. "I'll accept the nomination. I'll become the Unova Champion."

"Wait, hang on." Paul lifted his head and leaned toward Iris. "Don't be so hasty. Give it more time."

"Yes, this is a serious decision," Cilan added.

"You guys said you needed me," Iris said simply. "If that's the case, then there's no other option. I'll do it." Silence followed. No one was quite sure what to say. Iris pressed her hands to her face and yawned. "I'm tired. I'm done for the night."

"All right," Leaf gave in, watching as Iris and Cilan stood up. "We can talk more tomorrow."

"Mhm," Iris hummed. "Thanks." She headed out the door, down the hallway, and Cilan was about to follow, until Paul intercepted him at the door.

"Hey," Paul began gruffly. "Don't blame yourself for this. This is a problem with Alder, not you."

Cilan smiled weakly and shook his head, evidently not believing him.

"It is nevertheless a problem that is rooted in my shortcomings. My inability to hold my tongue seems to cause a lot of trouble for the people I love." Cilan sighed and added, "Thank you."

Cilan brushed past him, and Paul briefly watched him go, up until he caught up with Iris. He let out an irritated breath and shut the door, leaning back against it so he could face Leaf.

"What's that look for?" she grumbled.

"Why are you making promises you can't keep?" Paul asked.

"What do you mean?"

"A plan to show the country she's the right person for the job?" Paul questioned her. "It better be a pretty good plan."

"It is."

"... What is it?"

"Telling you would ruin the fun."

"I'm not playing this game, Leaf," Paul growled.

"Fine," Leaf conceded. "Riddle me this: What does Unova lack that every other region in Napaj has?"

"Decent Pokémon?" Paul suggested dryly.

"No." Leaf glared. "Contests. Pokémon Contests. Coordinators make up the second-biggest trainer class in Napaj, and an entire region lacks a branch of the APC. I honestly believe if Iris supports some kind of initiative to put contests in Unova—it would do great things for her. It would help overshadow the problems with her nomination."

Paul looked doubtful, but asked, "How are you planning to get Raoul Contesta on board?"

"Contesta will literally do anything the G-Men asks of him," Leaf said. "But I don't think it would be hard to convince him anyway. Contests in Unova? Expanding our brand? Making more money? What a terrible idea!" She paused before adding, "I'm already meeting with him in-person in a couple days, and I have a name to give him."

"A name?"

"Why, none other than the young, successful two-time Top Coordinator Drew Hayden," Leaf said wryly, "who will be finishing up college in April, conveniently before the time Iris's inauguration would be held."

"... Geez." Paul shook his head. "You just need a new knight to play with, don't you?"

**July 3rd, 2009. Afternoon. Opelucid City.**

Iris left almost immediately after the cameras were off—out the office, down the hallway, into the elevator, across the battle field, under the sunshine of the mid-afternoon star. She dragged herself halfway down the several long, white steps before sinking toward them, knowing she had reached her limit. She could go no further without telling someone.

She inhaled deeply through her nose and exhaled. She needed the outside air. The walls of the Opelucid gym could feel inadequate; yet, the smoky air of the city was oppressive and hardly a better option.

Iris heard the door open, but she didn't turn her head. She always knew who came after her. Cilan settled himself beside her on the steps and reached an arm around her shoulders. Iris was compliant to his touch, accepting the invitation to lean her head against his upper arm.

"... What did you think?" she asked, meaning the interview.

"You were brilliant," he said without pause.

"I saw that Leaf left midway through," Iris remarked.

"She received a message from someone that needed her attention." He then admitted, "I'm not sure what. I do think she was impressed with you, though. Paul, too."

Iris nodded, the side of her face rubbing against his sleeve. She turned her face, so it was angled more toward the crook of his neck. Cilan kissed her temple, willing to fulfill her demand for more intimacy.

"I have to go back in," Iris later said, after several minutes of silence had passed. "There's a call I have to make."

"A call?" Cilan inquired.

"A hire," Iris clarified, and his eyes briefly widened. Iris sighed and changed the subject. "I don't get why I feel like I'm a stranger in what's supposed to be my home."

Cilan's gaze softened sympathetically as he turned his eyes down toward her.

"Cynthia was right when she said you need time," he said. "You proved what you needed to prove, I think."

"What are you saying?" Iris asked warily.

Cilan paused, considering what to say.

"I want to take you to your real home," he finally answered. "I owe you that, at least."

**_February 16th, 2009. Afternoon. Opelucid City._**

Cilan gently pulled aside the curtain from where he sat and sighed. Grand, swollen raindrops—frigid raindrops, considering the season—were knocking at the window, obscuring the outdoor view of the road that led up to the gym entrance.

He dropped the curtain and resumed his reading, though he felt something stir nervously in his stomach. The weather conditions made for poor traveling, and that was his foremost concern. He reached the end of a page and turned it, only to realize he hadn't been paying attention to what he had been reading and had to flip back several more pages.

It was then that Cilan heard a ringing throughout the home, indicating that someone was at the front door. He furrowed his eyebrows—he thought the storm would drive Iris's challengers away—but nevertheless went ahead, closed up his book, and headed down to meet the unexpected visitor.

He was surprised, to say the least, to see who had arrived on their doorstep.

"Alder?" Cilan perked up in alarm. The Unova Champion grinned and shivered as he stood in a puddle that belonged to him.

"Why hello there, Cilan!" he said cheerily. "Wouldn't happen to have any room for an old man, would you?"

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Alder was seated on the couch with a thick blanket wrapped around his broad shoulders. Cilan brought in a set of tea, which he had made piping hot to help warm the aging male, and set it on the table before him.

"I'm presuming you're looking for Iris," Cilan finally began after pouring himself and Alder a cup of tea and sitting down on an armchair next to Alder.

"That I am." Alder nodded.

"I'm afraid she's not here right now," Cilan said. "She's home in the Village of Dragons. I was with her over the weekend, but I had to return to the city to teach my classes this morning."

Alder briefly frowned.

"I see," he mused.

"I'm sorry."

"Ah, don't worry about it!" Alder gave a dismissive wave of his hand. "I'll catch her another time. When will she be back?"

"She was supposed to leave the village this afternoon. With this weather, I'm not sure she did or not," Cilan confessed. "Knowing her, she might have decided to brave it anyway..."

"Sounds like someone's worried," Alder chuckled. "Don't get too anxious, now. Iris can take care of herself. Although, I suppose it's in a husband's nature to fret about his sweetheart's welfare. I know I did." He paused before asking, "How long ago was it that you two hitched up?"

"We were married in September of 2007," Cilan answered. "So... we're coming up on a year and a half."

"That long already?" Alder shook his head. "Gee, I'm feelin' old. Well, congrats to ya. Knew you two were friends, but never woulda guessed it, since you seemed like you were on two different planes of existence. It's why I always thought Iris and Benga would be a good match, but I guess love doesn't work out that neatly." He quickly added, "You two seem happy together now, though, so I'm happy, too."

"Thank you," Cilan said tacitly. "We are happy."

"Any little ones on the way?"

Cilan let out a quick, uncomfortable laugh.

"No, no," he answered. "I think that's a way's off. We haven't discussed it in detail, but I imagine she and I will start a family after..." He trailed off.

"After she becomes Champion?" Alder suggested.

"Yes, that." Cilan nodded.

"She looking forward to it? To being Champion, I mean."

"She doesn't talk about it much," Cilan said honestly. "It did come up between her and I at Leaf and Paul's inaugurations." He hesitated before adding, "She doesn't seem _unexcited_."

Alder pressed his lips together and furrowed his eyebrows, as if he were giving this answer serious consideration.

"And you?" he asked.

Cilan was unsure how to appropriately approach the question. He tapped his fingers against the edge of his teacup, humming.

"I have my reservations, but I want to support her," he eventually answered.

"That's good. It's important to support your spouse, especially if they're gonna do something big, like be Champion." Alder then asked, "What reservations?"

"I... well..." Cilan stumbled through the beginning of his response. "I suppose I'm not one for politics. Neither is she."

"Neither am I!" Alder laughed. "It's a strange kind of job, a hard one. It's the kind of thing you have to really care about, otherwise it can just swallow you up whole."

"Ah," was all Cilan could say.

"You know, Grimsley once told me he was interested in being Champion," Alder went on, leaning toward Cilan. "I told him he was crazy. It's true—if you knew what it really entailed, I don't know who would _want_ to be Champion—but the job's not open anyway. Drayden'd never let me do anything different."

"Grimsley?" Cilan craned an eyebrow.

"Oh yeah."

"An interesting candidate." Cilan took a sip of his drink. "He would do a good job, I think."

"You really think so?"

Truthfully, it wasn't a subject Cilan was passionate about—he had no strong opinions—but he proceeded anyway, not wanting to be rude. It was a mistake, as he would later learn.

"Certainly." Cilan nodded. "Excellent trainer, experienced Elite Four member... The public would expect nothing less."

Alder pursed his lips.

"I suppose that's true."

_**July 3rd, 2009. Evening. Icirrus City.**_

"_What were your thoughts following the realization that someone had tried to assassinate you?_" Shriver posed the question carefully, and the screen flashed to Iris's disaffected face as she thought over a response.

Trip, Georgia, and Burgundy were situated together in the living room of Georgia's apartment. Leaf, earlier that morning, had given Trip and Georgia notice that the gym would be busily occupied by PNN's sent staff—the kindest way of telling them that they would get in the way if they showed that morning. Thus, the suggestion arose, from Georgia, that they could watch the interview when it aired. Burgundy was, as usual, invited into the mix later.

"_I was more shocked than anything,_" Iris admitted. "_I expected there to be some blowback against me becoming Champion, but I didn't think it would ever reach that point. I had support, though, and I had to move on. You can't dwell on that kind of thing._"

"_Many people criticize you for not having enough 'experience' to be a Champion,_" Shriver went on. "_You are the first Champion to have made the leap from being a gym leader to a Champion. Some people think it's too high a leap, and many believe it's the reason why Barret Dunstan attempted to kill you. Your thoughts on this?_"

"_I honestly don't think it was because of my inexperience_," Iris said. _"I think it was because he was an extremist from Team Plasma, which opposes the league entirely. I think it would have happened even if I had more 'experience.'_"

"_Still, why then, accept the nomination if you felt you were inexperienced?_"

"_I don't feel inexperienced,_" Iris hastily clarified. "_Am I still learning? Yes. I don't know if being and Elite Four member first, or having some other award, would have changed how I lead now._"

"_There are others who think you don't deserve it, though,_" Shriver pressed. "_What do you say to that?_"

Iris was silent for a while. It was a hard question, and it was the one to which most everyone wanted to hear the answer. Georgia leaned forward, toward the screen. Iris had once said she knew she didn't deserve it, and Georgia was curious whether she would repeat it on national television—undoubtedly a deadly blow to her own reputation—or betray her genuine feelings.

"_I was talked into accepting the nomination, because there were people close to me who felt I was the best person to be Champion,_" Iris finally said. "_I'm sure there are many who would disagree with those people, and I'm not going to say they should think otherwise. But, I want to do my best to become the kind of leader everyone expects me to be, for the better of people and Pokémon._"

Georgia leaned back. It was a smart answer; perhaps her smartest answer. She managed to be honest without self-destructing.

"She's doing well," Georgia remarked. "You wouldn't know she had been sobbing in the hospital yesterday."

"That might not be a good thing," Trip pointed out. "Some people might take it to mean she doesn't care." He paused before adding, "Iris is a person who rises to the occasion, though."

Burgundy said nothing; she had said little all night. Instead, she pulled her legs closer to herself and leaned her head against the armrest as her gaze left the screen and aimlessly floated away.

_**July 3rd, 2009. Evening. Opelucid City.**_

"Oh, put that away," Ursula said, her voice taking a slurred, almost sensuous tone as she lightly batted at Drew's hand, which was holding onto his cell phone; Iris's interview was underway, and he was attempting to watch it despite the loud beats of the music in the background.

It had been someone's suggestion—he couldn't remember whose—that the staff go to a bar that evening, to blow off some steam. It wasn't uncommon for them to order dinner together on Friday evenings, but this was the first time they were getting drunk together, and Drew was learning more than he would've expected to know about his employees, including how alcohol affected them.

"This is meant to be fun," Ursula went on. "Do you know how to have that? Have you ever even been drunk before?" She didn't let him answer before turning to May, who was seated next to her brother on the lounge; both had drinks in their hands. May was working on hers steadily, while Max would take an occasional sip and make a face each time, but he persisted in drinking it anyway. Ursula asked, "Has he even been drunk, May?"

"Uh... not often!" May smiled weakly.

"Yawn." Ursula then turned a sly eye toward Dawn. "You know, I'm curious. How does your beau hold his alcohol?"

"What?" Dawn blinked.

"Paul?" Ursula asked, mockingly so. "The Sinnoh Champion?"

"Oh. ... I don't think I've ever seen him drunk, actually. Maybe buzzed." Dawn stirred her drink and furrowed her eyebrows, as if the question now fascinated her. Ursula raised her eyebrows and took another sip of her drink. The rim of the martini glass was stained with her bright red lipstick.

"You know, Ursula is super hamsy when drunk," Barry remarked with one arm around Zoey.

She rolled her eyes and mumbled, "Reminds me of someone I know."

"Yeah..." Kenny added, agreeing with Barry. "I almost like her better."

Dawn's silent musings must have taken a distressing turn, given a sudden change in her expression, and she rose up and headed toward the outside patio. Drew glanced up at her in alarm, then looked back at his other companions. May had seen it, too, and her eyes filled with worry before she exchanged a pointed look with Drew. Drew thought she might go after Dawn, but May flicked her head toward Max, who starting to show his first signs of inebriation. Drew sighed and, accepting his responsibility, got up to go after her.

He found her leaning forward against the railing outside, gazing out at some of the late-night city lights, her drink still in her hand. He came up beside her, leaning against the railing, too.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Oh yeah," Dawn said with a dismissive wave. "No need to worry."

"I didn't realize you hadn't told the others you and Paul were broken up," Drew admitted.

Dawn shrugged it off and said, "It'd be a pain to deal with the media at a time like this. I'm sure it'll come out, but it's better it not now. He has a lot on his plate; I have a lot on mine." She paused before adding, "That's not why I'm out here, though."

"It isn't?"

"No." Dawn shook her head.

"What's the matter then?"

Dawn was silent for a moment, her gaze averted. Then she looked him straight in the eyes and asked, "For how long are you going to keep stringing us along?"

"What are you talking about?" Drew was slightly taken aback. She didn't sound hostile in any sense of the word, but she was firm, and she was longing.

"Rumor among some of the staff has it that you're going to dissolve the CIU," Dawn went on. "I don't know if we blame you, but it's hard being here and knowing this is going to end."

Drew pursed his lips.

"I'm not dissolving the CIU."

"You're not?"

"No," Drew repeated, sounding tired. He moved his eyes elsewhere, mumbling, "That's all it is: a rumor."

* * *

"There was nothing there."

This was not the answer anyone in the room had expected, and worse, it was not one they wanted. Angela Gray stood before her superiors calmly, her arms hanging in a "V" before her, her hands clasping each other. Paul let out a slow, disbelieving breath, frustration riding upon it.

"Nothing there?" he repeated. "You mean to say the employees were acting like there was nothing wrong?"

"No." Angela shook her head. "I mean to say there was nothing there. I walked up to the office, in civilian clothes like you had asked, only to find the door locked. When I peered inside, there was no one at the desk. It was abandoned."

"Is SAMPLe closed on Fridays?" Wallace inquired.

"No," Angela repeated. "The door read that it's only closed on Sundays."

Leaf left her seat on one of the sofas—everything had been returned to how it was before the interview in Iris's office—and went to Iris's desk. She fumbled through several drawers until she found the card Elijah card gave Iris, scanned it over, then sighed.

"Yeah," Leaf mumbled. "It's open on Fridays."

"How strange..." Cynthia mused.

"It's not strange," Gary insisted bitterly; he sat in a corner of the room. "They knew the G-Men would come, so they high-tailed it out of there. Cowards."

"What I don't understand is this: What was their purpose behind all of this?" Wallace asked.

"That's not too hard to figure out," Leaf replied. "SAMPLe is PLASMA. Team Plasma is anti-league; they want to see the league and the G-Men disappear, and they plan to do that by undermining our authority in the public's eye—by exposing what, I'm not going to deny, is wrong with our governance—so they can institute their own belief system. It's literally the same thing Team Rocket wanted to achieve seven years ago, except instead of holding a Legendary Pokémon hostage to spur on apocalyptic weather, they're engaging in biological warfare." She paused before adding, "Now, I almost believe N and Barret Dunstan when they say the intention wasn't to kill Iris."

"So what's next?" Paul asked.

"Well, we're definitely going back to SAMPLe, to see if there's anything we can find in those facilities," Leaf said. "But Drew was onto something when he pointed out there was something we never found seven years ago. If former members of Team Rocket and Team Plasma are now working together, we need to think seriously about where the Team Rocket Unova base is. We'll need help though, and I've already put in a call."

"So has Iris." Cilan slipped into the room, and all eyes were immediately on him.

"Iris put in a call?" Leaf craned an eyebrow.

"She's officially made her hire for the Chief of the Unova G-Men," Cilan informed them. "He will be here tomorrow."

"Who will?" Cynthia inquired.

"I don't know who. She didn't tell me his name," Cilan admitted. "She will not be here to welcome him, however."

"Excuse me?" Leaf asked.

"I'm taking her to the Village of Dragons, tonight, and we're staying for the rest of the weekend, up through Monday," Cilan said. "She's in desperate need of a break. I managed to get a tentative agreement out of her."

"Good." Cynthia nodded. "You two need time."

"Thank you." Cilan was relieved he had support in the endeavor.

"No complaints here, either," Leaf added. "How is she expecting us to deal with her new chief, though?"

"She said Paul would know what to do," Cilan offered.

The gazes of the room then turned toward the Sinnoh Champion, and he stared back at Cilan before sighing and mumbling a barely distinct "Arceus" under his breath.

* * *

The dreams haunted Ash unceasingly for almost two years after he emerged unharmed from a coma, only to learn his brother—the only sibling he had ever had—had disappeared. It was not the last he ever saw of Silver, however. He could never quite figure out why Mewtwo (at least, he thought it was Mewtwo) kept showing him Silver. Gary had once hypothesized it was a sign he needed to find him, but Ash had dejectedly, repeatedly, told him he was sure that was not the reason.

Misty's theory was that they were meant to bring him comfort, to let him know Silver was still out there, and Ash was more inclined to believe that, because there did a come a time when the dreams—or visions—stopped bringing him teaspoons of comfort and started becoming torturous.

That was when they stopped, entirely.

Ash couldn't pinpoint exactly how long he had been traveling in Kalos then. It had to have been a while, at least. Serena, and Clemont, and Bonnie knew of his fame in his home country, but they also knew not to bring it up. Ash had never been rude or terse about it, but he had been upfront: It was something he didn't want to talk about, and despite whatever curiosities that gnawed at them, they always respected his wishes.

It was hard, though, when they knew it bothered him.

"Ash! Ash!" Clemont shook his shoulder, waking the boy up. Ash gasped in a quick breath and sat up. He looked wildly around for a moment before realizing his companions were out of bed and staring at him. Pikachu was at his side, too, grasping on his trainer's shirt with his yellow paw. His cheeks were sparking with electricity; evidently, he had been prepared to wake Ash up with a quick, harmless jolt if Clemont had been unable to do it.

"Hey guys." Ash smiled weakly. "What's up?"

"You were thrashing in bed," Serena informed him worriedly.

"Yeah!" Bonnie added. "It kinda freaked us out!"

Ash rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

"Sorry..." he mumbled. "Bad dream, I guess."

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Serena offered.

Ash sat quietly for a moment, thinking. He didnt, really; or rather, he wasn't sure, but with his friends so worried, he felt it best to give them at least the chance to offer their advice.

"I, um..." Ash began hesitantly. Pikachu frowned and climbed into his trainer's lap. "There's someone. There's someone I really care about, but I haven't seen them in-person in a long time, and I guess it bothers me a lot." He lowered his head and added, "A lot of people think that person doesn't care about me, and I wanna think they're wrong, but sometimes, it's hard to."

His companions watched him in silence, appearing troubled. It was unusual, and disconcerting, to see the normally happy-go-lucky, confident Ash so distraught.

"Well..." Serena stared carefully. "Sometimes people care, but they don't care in the way you hope they will." She drew her arms around herself; she made it sound personal. "I'm sure they do care, Ash. It's hard not to care about a person like you. But in cases like that... It's probably best to let it go."

"Yeah," Clemont agreed, adjusting his glasses. "No sense in depressing yourself over something you can't control."

"And remember," Bonnie added, more cheerfully, "if nothing else, we care about you! We're your friends, and I know there are plenty of other people who care about you, too, right?"

Ash managed another smile.

"Right." He nodded.

He never dreamed about Silver again. Or rather, he didn't dream about him again until that warm summer night in Opelucid City, after he put himself to bed with thoughts of N, of Team Plasma, of Team Rocket, and of his brother's connection to it all clouding his head. In the vision, he almost didn't recognize Silver at first—it had been at least five years—but the eyes, they were the dead giveaway, as they glowed in the moonlight of a beaten Unovan route that he recognized.

Ash woke up, inhaling sharply. He sat upright in his bed in the dead silence of darkness, processing what he had seen and deciding what to make of it. He glanced toward Ritchie and found he was still asleep.

"Pika?" Pikachu looked up at his trainer in a tired daze.

"Hey," Ash whispered. He slid out of his bed and started to change out of his pajamas. "I saw him. I gotta go. You can come or you can stay. Your choice."

Pikachu perked up, and it took a moment to understand what his trainer meant, but when he did, he quickly nodded. Of course he would go. Ash grinned.

"All right." Ash started haphazardly throwing things—necessities of travel—into his bag. "We gotta be quiet, okay?"

"Pika, Pikachu." His Pokémon nodded. When Ash finished, he threw his backpack onto his shoulders, and Pikachu quickly climbed up his trainer's arm. "Let's go."

They quickly, quietly, slid out of the room and headed down the hallway. Ash muttered something to Pikachu about needing to drop by a convenience store to pick up food—but he stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed a figure looming ahead, concealed by the shadows of night.

"Ash?" He recognized the voice, and he blinked, managing to make out that it was Serena standing before him.

"... Hi," Ash said tentatively.

"Is something wrong?" she asked. "What are you doing out of bed?"

"Uh..." Ash mentally stumbled. "What are _you_ doing out of bed?"

"I just went to the bathroom." A barely noticeable blush crossed her face. She hadn't wanted to share the detail. "Are you going somewhere? You're dressed."

"Oh, well..." Ash slid his hands into his pockets. "I just had a dream, that's all. I wanted to take a walk, to think about it."

"... Okay." Serena didn't think anything of it. "Well, be safe out there, all right?"

"I will be," Ash assured her as he stepped away, heading toward the stairs. "I promise."

.

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	22. XXI: In Which Silver Reveals His Path

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XXI: In Which Silver Reveals His Path

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_**March 18th, 2005. Afternoon. Striaton City.**_

Cilan was not oblivious to the feelings Iris harbored for him.

There was no grand, stunning revelation that his closest friend was infatuated with him. For him, it was a slow, gradual realization that, in all likelihood, paralleled her steady growth of affections. The notion of it was dramatically romantic—two best friends falling in love despite the tragic backstories and political conspiracies and cities of separation—more than worthy of his long, elegant speeches, if it weren't for one complication: It was unreciprocated.

This he had told himself, for any time she straddled the line of their friendship, or any time he gravitated toward her as a consequence of his own carelessness and the strange though powerful draw she had on him—her warm vitality was undeniably magnetic; it was why they could be friends, despite their sharply discrepant lifestyles—he could see the shadow of her onerous future in her eyes, and it drove him back a respectable distance.

Subconsciously, he knew it was selfish, and he knew every time he drifted too close only to pull back again hurt her, and this observation strengthened his resolve to untie the heartstrings she had attached to him. Pulling them taut was painful, and snapping them would damage a relationship still utterly precious to him, so this, he thought, was the only option. Yet, as he would discover, there were unforeseen, self-inflicted repercussions that came with separating attachments, mainly because he wrongfully assumed they all belonged to Iris.

The lecture for EVA 402 ended promptly at 3:15 p.m., and Cilan, along with the rest of his peers, packed up his items and filtered out of the classroom, into a throng of students moving to their next class. However, Cilan, luckily, was done for the day, and he was homeward bound. He sidled past a bulky B-Class and headed into the stairwell, needing to climb one floor to reach ground level. Yet, halfway through his ascent, he noticed a familiar face in the crowd: It was Iris, beaming at him as her hand clung onto the railing while other students hastened around her.

Cilan let out a disbelieving breath but smiled. He happily recited her name when they met, briefly draping an arm around her shoulder in a quick, sideways embrace. The gesture earned some scoffs and deprecating gazes. Not only were they blocking traffic, affection in the building hallways was often viewed as juvenile, and the disheveled, earthy look Iris had about her did little to help. Surely an S-Class candidate could do better than _that_.

"What are you doing here?" Cilan asked, pulling her further up the stairs with him so they were no longer standing still in a moving swarm.

"I just decided to see you." Iris shrugged. "Is something wrong with that?"

"No, no," Cilan quickly reassured her. "I just thought you would've had responsibilities at your gym in Opelucid."

"I take breaks, unlike you, Mr. College-Student-Connoisseur-Gym-Leader." She poked him playfully as she said this.

They eventually made it outside, into the sunny, temperate climate. Cilan squinted at bright, warm light—he had been under the care of florescent for far too long—and briefly shielded his eyes before glancing back at Iris, who was unbothered by the weather.

"Would you like to get something to eat?" he suggested. "There's a little bakery near campus that I occasionally visit after classes are over."

"Is it as good as Chili's baking?"

"It's half-decent in comparison." Cilan smiled. "I would suggest a late lunch at the gym, but I imagine they're busy readying themselves for the dinner rush."

Iris agreed, and they started their trek across the expanse of campus, which was much more navigable than the cramped, populous hallways of any building they passed. They eventually crossed the boundary where the school grounds ended and cityscape began. From there, Iris kept stride with Cilan on the sidewalk, letting him lead the way toward their destination. Their dialogue aimlessly though pleasantly wandered through a variety of topics—his classes, her training, their gym matches, the story of how she caught her new Deino (it had pillaged a local farmer's market in Opelucid, and Iris was called in to control it), whether the rumor that Elesa and Skyla were dating was true or not—some of it drivel, some of it more consequential.

At some point, Iris's fingers brushed against his, and Cilan, startled, quickly drew his dangling arm away. She cast him a strange look—Cilan quickly realized the incident was accidental—but his negative reaction undoubtedly stung. He was about to apologize, but she cleared her throat to speak.

"You know, actually," she started anew, "I'm partially here because I wanted to battle you."

"Is that so?" Cilan rested the tension in his arms once more as they continued onward.

"Both Alder and Drayden think I should become more 'acquainted' with the gym leaders in Unova," Iris briefly explained.

"You already know me." Cilan craned an eyebrow.

"Exactly. You're an easy start."

"Mm," he hummed thoughtfully, then stopped, lifting his eyes toward a pastel-colored sign reading "Randy's Sweets" hanging above a storefront. "Ah, here it is."

Their conversation paused, and he pushed open the door, graciously allowing Iris inside first. Although the interior was abuzz with multiple seated patrons, there was no line at the counter, and Cilan and Iris were immediately able to examine the wares behind the glass case. Cilan, deciding to reward himself after a long week of classes, opted for a small white cupcake topped with cream and a slice of an Aguav berry, while Iris settled on a sugar-sprinkled Pecha pastry. After resolving a short quibble over payment—Cilan was insistent since he invited her there, but Iris stubbornly told him she had the money to take care of it herself—they seated themselves at a small, secluded table that separated them from the rest of the bakery's customers.

"So are Alder and Drayden insinuating that you ought to take on the Pokémon League Challenge?" Cilan soon asked.

"Hm?" Iris blinked and wiped away some crumbs, having already taken a bite of her pastry. It took her a moment to realize what he was referencing. "Oh, that. No, I don't think so. It'd be a waste of time for me to try to become Champion that way. The Vertress Conference is kind of a mess."

"Is there anything associated with the league that isn't?" Cilan remarked wryly.

"Stop." Iris rolled her eyes. When he chuckled, she continued, "No, seriously. You become snarky every time I bring this up."

"Snarky?" Cilan drew back with mild surprise.

Yes, snarky," she insisted. "Just because you use nice words doesn't mean the _tone_ isn't there."

"Well, I apologize." His sincerity was questionable, and Iris huffed.

"I'm just frustrated," she began. "Outside of Drayden and Alder, I don't really have anyone else to talk to about this. I just wish you were more supportive."

"I do support you, Iris, but I'm not supportive of the league and G-Men," Cilan calmly, though bluntly reminded her. "So perhaps I'm not the right person to talk to."

Iris looked at him with unforgettable reproach, her chest visibly swelling with indignance and heated words, but she deflated before she expressed any of it.

"Yeah..." she mumbled.

The conversation faded, and suddenly, they weren't talking anymore.

_**July 4th, 2009. Morning. Village of Dragons.**_

Drayden had not realized how much he missed simplified living until he, in retirement, had finally returned to it. It had been a restless adjustment at first—it was strangely difficult to move from the hustle of city life and league politics to near-total peace—but when his mother passed away and he took on her responsibilities, he was able to redirect his unused energy into it.

That morning, he sat on the ground in front of the low-rise table with a newspaper clutched in his hands and a cup of untouched herbal tea steaming nearby. The warm summer breeze blew through the curtain that covered his door, but it came suddenly in a gust when that curtain was drawn aside and two familiar faces entered the home. Drayden's gaze rose.

"Well, I'm surprised to see you here," Drayden remarked to the solemn couple standing before him.

"We came in last night," Cilan said.

"With whom are you staying?" he asked.

"Shannon," Iris answered.

"I see," Drayden mused. Iris wrung her hands nervously for a moment, averting her eyes from his.

"I wanted to ask for your permission to bury our daughter," she broke out, looking at him again and speaking more quickly, "in the village graveyard." She hesitated before asking, "Did you... did you even know about that?"

"I did." Drayden drew a finger across the newspaper laid before him. "I am not unaware of the outside world just because of the responsibilities I've assumed here."

"Right." Iris cast her eyes down once more.

"Alder knows, too," Drayden appended. "I managed to get ahold of him while he was out traveling, and he sends his condolences. He offered to return to see you, but I told him that would upset you."

"Thank you." Iris nodded. Drayden was silent for a moment as he took in the image of the young lovers. They stood a short distance apart, but it was a distance that foretold of a heartbroken rift which they would need to heal themselves. Drayden suspected that was why they came to the village.

"You, and by extension, your husband, are a part of our clan, and so to bury your daughter in our graveyard is your right," he finally said, and Iris let out a relieved breath.

"Thank you," she repeated.

"I'm very sorry for your loss," Drayden added. "Take the time you need to recover here."

"We will." Iris nodded. She was the first to leave, and Cilan was soon to follow. Before he could step outside and vanish from sight, however, Drayden called out to him.

"Cilan?" he inquired. Cilan stopped.

"Yes?" He slowly faced Drayden again. Apprehension was evident in his expression. "... Sir?" He didn't know what the appropriate title for the Village Elder was, but he had always, by default, called him "sir" before Drayden had assumed the role.

"Take good care of her," he said firmly, though calmly, "though remember to take care of yourself, too. This is a loss that has affected you as well. I can see it."

"I'll keep that in mind, sir," Cilan said tacitly.

"One more thing," Drayden continued. "Thank you."

"Thank you?"

"For what you have done for her," Drayden clarified. "I am aware of the sacrifices you have made—so is she."

Cilan smiled weakly.

"She has made just as many sacrifices," he said, "if not more."

_**June 10th, 2005. Evening. Striaton City.**_

"You know," Iris began cynically as she pressed the tube of purple non-toxic glue to the back of a square cut-out of red construction paper, "isn't this the kind of assignment 9-year-old kids do, _not_ 20-year-old adults?"

Cilan's lips writhed into an amused smile. He and Iris stood together in his family's gym's break room, hovering over a table where a large white poster board and an assortment of arts supplies—scissors, markers, other squares of construction paper, more glue—laid sprawled across the dark wooden surface. The assignment was simple enough: Create a functional board game reviewing different Pokémon abilities. It was perhaps too simple, actually.

"Allana Sylvatica is a brilliant S-Class Connoisseur and teacher," Cilan offered, "but she worked with elementary-aged children before she was hired as a professor by the PCA."

"I can tell," Iris scoffed. She then waved her hand, adding, "Well, you have more patience than I do. I think I would drop out if I got an assignment like this. This is probably why it's a good thing I didn't go to college."

He laughed at that and said, "Your visits keep me sane."

Iris was, in fact, visiting him more often. She had made a habit of slipping away from Opelucid City during the weekends to see him, not that he was complaining. Her companionship, a suspension of an oppressively busy schedule, was always welcome. Now that it was summer and his credit hours were reduced from twenty-one to six, he could pay her—and their friendship—the attention it deserved.

As soon as he finished this one assignment, of course.

"What'chu two working on?" Chili poked his head into the work room before strolling inside.

"A board game," Iris answered coolly.

"For fun, or... ?" Cress followed his redheaded brother.

"An assignment," Cilan clarified.

Chili scoffed and said, "That's just a front. You just don't wanna admit you're geeky enough to make trivia games in your spare time."

"Yeah, whatever. Maybe Cilan, but not me," Iris playfully threw back, and Cilan glowered at her.

"Are you here for the whole weekend, Iris?" Cress politely inquired, changing the subject.

"Pretty much," Iris replied. "Through tomorrow night, at least. Drayden wants me back Sunday for more training."

"Oh, really?" Chili grinned. "Well, in that case, you ought to come out with us tomorrow to this opening for a new drive-through donut joint several blocks away. I want to see how it measures up."

Iris was ready to agree, but she slipped on her "sure" as remembrance struck her. A timid guilt fell upon her face as she averted her gaze, particularly from Cilan.

"Ah... I'd love to, but I can't," she said.

"You can't?" Cilan blinked. He hadn't told her of the plans, but he had intended to, and he fully expected her to tag along. She always did.

"No, um..." Iris hesitated. "I have other plans, actually."

"Here in Striaton?" Cress inquired.

"Yeah, I, uh, have a date!" Iris smiled nervously, and if the three brothers didn't know her better, they might have mistaken her sheepishness for lying. Cilan looked at Iris with slight incredulity upon this disclosure, and both Chili and Cress picked up on his uneasiness.

"Ooh, a _date_~" Chili's teasing tone became thick and syrupy, perhaps purposefully, as he cast Cilan an evaluating glance.

"A date?" Cilan groped for an appropriate tone. "A date with whom?"

"Ever heard of Benga Ray?" Iris asked.

"Alder's grandson?" Cress remembered.

"Yeah, it's him."

Cilan pressed lips tightly together.

"I didn't realize you two knew each other," he said, trying to sound casual as he pick up another cut-out square of construction paper, this one green.

"Well, kind of yes, kind of no," Iris replied. "I told Drayden I was frustrated about—" She stalled, realizing it would be rude, and too revealing, to imply she was discontented with Cilan's only tentative encouragement of her training. "—things, and I guess he and Alder took it to mean they should set me up. I've talked to Benga a few times, and he apparently likes me, so yeah. That's happening."

"What are you two doing together?" Cress asked.

"I dunno," Iris admitted. "I tried to tell him I would be in Striaton City, but he said he was willing to come out to me."

"How nice," Cilan mumbled. Chili was turning red, trying to hold back a laugh, and Cress was casting him warning glances before returning his attention to Iris.

"It really is," Cress appended. "I wish you the best of luck."

"Mm..." Cilan hummed in forced agreement, and Iris appeared wary. "Best of luck."

* * *

Iris left only an hour later after a terse, mostly quiet dinner wherein Chili continued to make sly quips pointed at Cilan's sullen attitude. Cilan had finished his board game and was in the kitchen, rinsing off the dishes and putting them away. With Iris's leave, however, Chili was at leisure to bring up the topic more directly, and he wasn't going to let the opportunity slip away.

"So..." Chili drawled as he slid up beside Cilan at the counter. "Iris dating. What do you think about that?"

Cilan shrugged.

"Good for her," he said dismissively. Chili's prying, amused gaze never left, and Cilan, growing annoyed, looked up at him and demanded, "What?"

"Dude, you're not subtle." Chili broke into a laugh.

"About what?"

"You were _mad_ jealous when she brought it up," Chili said.

"I was not," Cilan indignantly denied.

"You were," Chili insisted. When the door opened and his other triplet brother walked inside, Chili turned to him and asked, "Wasn't he, Cress? Wasn't he jealous, I mean?"

Cress paused, staring at the two with a blank expression, which turned thoughtful when he eventually understood what was being asked of him.

"Green is a rather garish color on you," Cress informed Cilan, who looked exasperated—and offended—in response. Cress then added, "Figuratively, anyway."

Cilan sighed.

"Why would I be jealous?" he asked calmly but with perceptible ire; Chili being a nuisance was perhaps more grating than the situation itself. "Iris is free to date whomever she pleases, just as I am."

"You _don't_ date anyone else, though," Chili pointed out. "At least, not since Iris started coming around more and more." He then sighed, too, and added more seriously, "Look, I don't know what your deal is. Iris is way into you, and it's obvious you like her a lot, too. Why not let it turn into something more? You're already practically dating. She comes here almost every week to see you."

"Iris and I are just friends." Cilan stood his ground.

"Okay, fine, you can say that," Chili conceded, "but you can't deny you were upset tonight. Why is that? Personally, I think it's because you actually have feelings for her, too, but let's hear what you have to say."

Cilan let out a long breath and turned off the sink. He shook the dripping water off his last plate before drying it with a towel and setting it off to the side. He then turned on his heel and faced both of his brothers, giving them the full attention they wanted.

"What do you think Iris means when she says she's in training?" Cilan consciously knew he was treading into territory that wasn't his to tread, but he was so frustrated that he hardly cared. The unexpected question confused both Chili and Cress, and they exchanged their bemusement in a glance.

"I've always assumed she meant in training to be a Dragon Master," Cress eventually answered.

"Yeah, same," Chili added.

"It's not." Cilan shook his head. "Not entirely, anyway."

"What do you mean?" Cress asked warily.

Cilan sucked in some air, and though he knew it was wrong, he let the answer spill out: "Iris is going to be the Unova Champion someday." This statement did nothing to clear his brothers' confusion; rather, it intensified it.

"Is that just your opinion, or... ?" Chili cautiously pressed. "Or is it, like, a goal of hers?"

"No," Cilan answered plainly. "It's something that's been decided. It's something that's been decided for a long time. She will be Unova Champion." He then added, as a warning, "She entrusted me with this as private information, so I expect neither of you to share this conversation."

"Of... Of course not." Cress sounded surprised and was hardly sure he could believe him, though the firmness of Cilan's tone said that every word was true. Chili looked equally baffled. "The _Champion_?"

"Yes," Cilan affirmed, nodding. "I've known for years, and I suppose I've acted as a type of confidant for her. Except..." He trailed off. His voice and composure lost their confidence as he drew further into himself. "She and I have always been at odds over our opinions of the league and G-Men, and I suppose I haven't been a satisfactory adviser, which I'm speculating is why Alder and Drayden have decided to marry her off to some who will be more supportive, as if it were still the 18th century."

Although his tone became more bitter as he spoke, he stumbled over the word "marry," and Cilan looked pained from thereon out, as if the terrible implications—for him, and for his own feelings, at least—had just set in. Chili and Cress's expressions collapsed into sympathy as they watched, but they said nothing.

"And I wish..." Cilan continued in agonizingly slow and reticent manner. "And I wish I could be more supportive, because it has caused a rift between us. But I am not strong-willed enough to face what she will, and that kills me, because I—"

"—Because you love her," Chili finished for him solemnly. Cilan stared but did not protest. Chili had been teasing Cilan all evening, and longer, about his alleged affections for his long-time friend and fellow gym leader, but only now did it seem real. He had finally, sensibly, put into words what Cilan could not express, or even admit to himself.

Cilan cleared his throat.

"I'll be upstairs," he informed his brothers flatly. "I have some studying to do."

* * *

It was perhaps only twenty minutes later that a knock came at Cilan's closed bedroom door. Cilan, sitting upright on his bed with a textbook he was struggling to read laid before him, mumbled a "come in," and Cress cracked the door open and moved halfway inside. Cilan, his eyebrows raised but his expression otherwise unreadable, stared at him as he entered the room, waiting.

"Hello," Cress greeted with a weak smile. "I hope you don't mind me interrupting your studies, but there is some thing I wanted to show you."

"My studies aren't very productive right now, so sure," Cilan confessed. Cress absorbed his approval with a nod and brandished a laptop from beneath his arm, laying it out in front of Cilan. The on-screen site was turned to a video, already paused a specific time: 8:08. Several faces, one of them familiar, sat around a couple sofas, frozen in their digital prison.

"This is an interview I watched while making breakfast earlier on Pokémon Today—you know, that morning talkshow?" Cress explained. "It's with Winona Reyes, that gym leader who just married the Hoenn Champion, Wallace. She said some things I thought might interest you."

Cilan was wary of this introduction, but he nodded and, with a sigh, thanked him. Cress smiled again and stepped back out of the room, apparently intending to leave his brother alone to whatever revelations he had in store. Cilan waited a short while in internal debate after Cress disappeared before finally resigning himself to press play.

"_So, Winona,_" began the sunny blonde anchor with spirited green eyes and a pink smile, "_you and Wallace Reyes have been married for just a little over a month now, which certainly got your supporters excited when it came out you two had held a private wedding. How's married life been so far?_"

Winona, her face rosy with newlywed delight, let out a cheerful, short laugh.

"_Yes, yes—_" she started, "_—you know, it's been great. Wallace is wonderful to me, and he and I have been together for years, so it was long overdue._" She paused, then added as if her last statement had been too rude, "_I wouldn't change it, though—when we got married. The timing felt right._"

"_It's my understanding there was a period where you and Wallace weren't together, though,_" the second anchor, a handsome, chestnut-haired male, remarked. "_You only got back together in 2003, after being broken up for more than a year. And let me tell, I think the nation was heartsick when it was confirmed you two had split. Both of you were, and still are, a very popular couple._"

Winona's smile diminished, but she didn't look upset; rather, she appeared reflective.

"_Yes, we did break up for a while._" She nodded. "_That was me. It happened not long after he became Champion. We had been dating for not terribly long when Steven Stone stepped down and asked Wallace to replace him, and I wanted to be happy for him and be supportive, but I was very intimidated by the attention that comes with dating a Champion, and with the politics, too._"

Both anchors hummed understandingly, egging her on.

"_We broke up not because there were issues with the relationship itself, but because of the strain that was placed on us from being so suddenly thrust into the spotlight,_" Winona continued. _"I'm a private person, and of course there was attention with me dating him while he was an Elite Four member, but it was so different. I became very disenchanted with the politics—I already was, but it became worse—and I made the mistake of conflating those politics with him as a person, and so I broke it off._

"_I can't say it was a mistake, because I think there were a lot of things we learned while apart, and absence does make the heart grow fonder,_" Winona went on. "_But it was hard, because I still loved him, and he still loved me. I'm glad I eventually wisened up and got back together with him, and I'm glad—and lucky—he stayed in love with me for so long. It would've destroyed me if he decided he wasn't going to wait and ended up with someone else._"

"_Well, I think we're all glad he was stuck on you,_" the brunet anchor laughed.

"Yes," Winona agreed, a little more reserved. "_And, mind you, I'm still not wild about the politics, but it's something I'm willing to deal with, because the other option was so much worse. And, thankfully, Wallace is very understanding, and he's conscious of how uncomfortable it all can make me, so he does his best to take care of me, while I do my best to continue supporting him._"

Cilan paused the video. He knew that was all what Cress intended him to see. He then slowly closed the laptop lid and pushed it and his textbook aside before pressing a hand to his face and sucking in his breath.

* * *

A wave of monsoon weather swept through the city the next day, and Iris showed up on the doorstep of the Striaton City Gym a soaking wet but grinning mess. Chili had been the one to usher her inside, and Cress, seeing she was there, headed upstairs to inform Cilan of her unexpected arrival. This quickly drove Cilan downstairs to see her, and he found her and his redheaded triplet chatting in the work room.

Iris was shivering cold, but her eyes were alive with excitement—yet, it died as soon as Cilan entered the room.

"Hi," she said, a little nervously, as she faced him.

"Hello," Cilan tacitly replied. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Well..." Iris began carefully. "I need to head back to Opelucid City tonight, but I thought I should drop by to stay goodbye before Dragonite and I take off."

"You are _not_ flying in this weather," Cilan said firmly, almost paternally.

"I _have_ to be there tonight," Iris asserted.

"Fine. But no flying. Take a bus instead," Cilan suggested. He then gave her a once-over. "Aren't you cold?"

"It's not so bad."

"There are some freshly laundered clothes folded on my bed," Cilan informed her. "They'll be a bit big for you, obviously, but you can change into my pajamas, or whatever else you see fit, and we'll put your clothes into the dryer. When you come back down, we'll find you a bus."

Iris pressed her lips into a hard line—she didn't like being told what to do—but she also knew Cilan was right in this case and that he was only looking out for her better interests.

"Okay," she eventually agreed before brushing past him, heading toward his bedroom. When she left, Chili turned toward with a weakened, though still teasing smile reminiscent of the ones he had issued the night before.

"She and Benga went on their date this afternoon," Chili told him.

"I figured."

"From the way she's talking about it, he definitely kissed her," he added.

"Don't tell me that." Cilan winced.

"Don't get too hung up over it," Chili assured him. "She came here to see you. Obviously, she's still stuck on you. Although... If you really like Iris like I think you do, and you wanna be the one with her, I might take this as a last chance to make a move before that Benga dude totally sweeps her off her feet. She is wearing your clothes after all." He winked with that last remark, and Cilan rolled his eyes.

Iris was back downstairs only minutes later, and Cress took it upon himself to dry her clothes while Cilan and Iris perused through an online busing schedule. Their conversations remained strained, limited to the task of finding a way home for Iris, and after her transportation had been determined and Iris had changed back into her now-dry clothes, they set off for the nearest bus stop.

Cilan held up the umbrella as they traversed the stormy weather, and Iris shuffled close to him; it would be a shame for Cilan and his brothers to have gone through the trouble of drying her off only for her to get wet again and be miserable on the trip back to Opelucid. They were silent for the first couple of blocks—but being the type of person who couldn't bear to say nothing, Cilan eventually cleared his throat to speak, and Iris perked up.

"I heard you and Benga went out today," he started.

"Oh yeah." Iris seemed more hesitant to speak about it with him.

"How was it?" he inquired politely. "What did you do in this weather?"

"It was... fun." She smiled faintly. "He told me he planned to take me hiking through one of the nearby parks, but obviously, that wasn't going to work, so we went indoor rock climbing instead, and then had a late lunch." She fiddled with the end of her skirt, ending her story there. Her smile had shyly widened and she looked down to hide her blush. Cilan understood what Chili meant when he said he was sure Benga had kissed her at some point. It produced a sinking feeling, but he shook it off. Iris was happy.

"Why are you asking?" Iris asked.

"Mm?" The question drew Cilan out of his thoughts. "Oh, no reason. I was just curious. I'm glad you had fun."

Cilan closed up the umbrella as they moved under the protection of the shade near the bus stop. Iris plopped herself down on one of the empty seats, and Cilan occupied the one beside her, intending to safely see her off. Iris twiddled her thumbs for a moment before casting Cilan a careful sideways glance.

"Are you mad at me?" she asked suddenly, catching Cilan by surprise.

"Of course not," he assured her.

"I get the sense you're mad."

"I'm not." Cilan shook his head. He fell quiet, however, as he considered her perspective and became abashed by his own selfishness. "I must beg your forgiveness, though."

"What?" Iris blinked. "Why?"

"My recent behavior has been unacceptable, at no fault of your own," Cilan confessed. He hesitated before adding, "I suppose I was jealous."

His admission surprised Iris, and she stared at him with wide eyes.

"You... You were jealous because I went out with Benga?" She spoke carefully, worried she was interpreting the whole thing wrong and that she would end up embarrassing herself. Cilan being jealous over her dating someone else seemed unreal, and the implications of it caused her stomach to knot.

"Well, I..." Cilan backed down from answering, still too apprehensive about his newest revelations regarding his feelings toward Iris to discuss them. He modified his direction. "I realize I haven't been a good friend. And... I'm afraid I must also say I betrayed your trust."

"Betrayed my trust?" Iris was becoming more and more confused by the lack of answers Cilan was giving.

"I told Chili and Cress about Alder and Drayden's intention to make you Champion," he admitted. "It was wrong of me, and I apologize."

"Oh..." Iris trailed off. "That's no big deal."

"No?" Cilan raised an eyebrow.

"No," Iris assured him. "I trust your brothers. You're like family to me—all of you are." She smoothed a wrinkle in her skirt out. "And, anyway, don't worry about you being a good friend. You are one. You helped me dry off and walked me to the bus station in the pouring rain. I think that makes you a good friend." She cracked a smile when she looked back up at him. "You're my best friend, in fact. I used to not really have any friends, but then I met you and Ash, and now I have so many—but you, you're my best friend."

Cilan was undeniably touched by her words, because they were unrehearsed, and they jumbled out as messy, raw truths. Their eyes remained locked for a long while, and he found himself, for perhaps the first time in a long time, at a loss of what to say—so he didn't say anything. The sentimentality of the moment had imprisoned him, and so he wasn't thinking when he leaned toward her and pressed his lips against hers, his hand laying itself against her jawline.

Iris stiffened against him. She had not expected him to kiss her—she was reaching the point where she believed he would never kiss her, in fact—but the hopes and desires she had held so closely to her heart for so long were incited again, and they sparkled and burned more intensely than they had when Benga pecked her that afternoon—her first kiss. But when Iris kissed Cilan back, it was with the fervor of three years spent falling in love with him.

A whine hitched itself in Iris's throat when he pulled back, not wanting the moment to end, and his lips lingering mere inches away from hers was tempting for both parties. Cilan might have kissed her again if it weren't for the bus that pulled up alongside the curb.

Cilan sighed and drew further away, but not before letting his hand fall upon and cover hers.

"I'll see you next week," he offered her hopefully.

Iris drew in a shaky breath before she stood up.

"Yeah," she agreed. "I'll see you next week."

_**July 4th, 2009. Morning. Opelucid City.**_

Misty delicately drew the finishing touch to her outfit around her neck and tucked it into her shirt. She had worn the Heart Scale that Ash had given her every day since her birthday but took care to hide it each time, partially because she didn't want prying questions about the implications of such a gift from Ash, but mostly because she didn't want to give Ash the satisfaction.

Her phone, laying on the dresser before which she stood, featured a website of scheduled events in Opelucid City. July 4th was Unova's Independence Day, a celebration of when it finally became its own region in Napaj, and the Opelucid night sky would light up with the blazes of fireworks that evening, and she planned to ask Ash if he wanted to watch the show with her.

There came a knock at her door.

"Come in," Misty said, turning away from her mirror. "I was actually wanting to talk to—" She stopped short, realizing it was Ritchie who had come to see her. "Oh, sorry. I thought you were Ash for some reason."

"Nah." Ritchie smiled. "But you're looking for him, too?"

"Too?"

"He wasn't in bed when I woke up," Ritchie said. "I have no idea where he is."

"Huh..." Misty trailed off thoughtfully. "Have you checked the cafeteria, yet?" When he shook his head, she said, "That's probably where he is."

"I don't know. He usually _waits_ for us."

"This _is_ Ash we're talking about." Misty brushed past him, out into the hallway. "If he's hungry, he'll eat whether he has company or not."

Ritchie saw Serena heading out of her bedroom and called out to her: "Hey! Serena, have you seen Ash this morning?"

"Ash?" Serena blinked as they approached her. "I haven't seen him since last night. I woke up and saw him and Pikachu in the hallway. He said he'd had a dream and wanted to go for a walk." She perked up with alarm when she noticed the color simultaneously draining from both Misty's and Ritchie's faces. "Wait, what's wrong with that?"

"And... And you let him go?" Ritchie sputtered. He didn't sound angry, but rather incredulous.

"... Yes?" Serena answered with hesitation. Both Misty and Ritchie exchanged worried glances.

"For future reference, any time Ash tells you he has a weird dream and wants to go somewhere, immediately tackle him to the ground and don't let him leave," Misty said firmly, looking back at Serena.

"Why's that?" Serena asked nervously, but her question went unanswered as Misty turned abruptly toward Ritchie.

"Do you think... ?" she began, but Ritchie spoke before she finished, knowing what she meant.

"Yeah, yeah." He nodded quickly. "I mean, he brought him up yesterday. This can't be a coincidence."

"What's not a coincidence?" Serena asked.

"Oh Mew," Misty swore with a sigh. "We've got to talk to Leaf."

"What could she do, though?" Ritchie asked earnestly.

"I don't know, but she usually has _some_ idea," Misty replied, exasperated.

"Listen to me!" Serena voice rose for the first time since she had met Ash's other companions, and it caught them off guard. They stared at her with wide eyes; she finally had their attention, and she sucked in her breath before asking in a low, more serious tone, "What's going on?"

Both Ritchie and Misty took a moment to recover from her outburst before either replied.

"Ash sometimes has these dreams—visions, I guess you could say," Ritchie eventually explained. "He probably saw his brother last night, and he left to go find him."

_**July 4th, 2009. Morning. Somewhere in Unova.**_

Ash's feet tiredly dragged him along the path, though his eyes were alert as he took in every detail of the area around him. He had traveled this route once before many years ago with Iris and Cilan, hence why he was able to recognize it in his vision last night; yet, the familiarity was also a weakness, as he had to wrack his exhausted brain for the distinguishing details between what was familiar and what he had seen the night before.

Pikachu was on its forefeet and backlegs, walking faithfully alongside his trainer, but he accidentally broke stride when Ash suddenly stopped. He curiously looked up at his trainer, whose eyes were scanning the scene thoughtfully.

"This was where he was last night," Ash decided, turning toward Pikachu. "So I guess we just gotta feel our way around and keep looking for him."

"Pika-chu." Pikachu nodded and tilted his nose toward the air. Although his sense of smell was not anything notable compared to a Houndoom or other canine-like Pokémon, it was, at least, more useful than Ash's and more keen than that of many other species. He reached deep into his memory, trying to recall Silver's scent—similar to Ash's, though not quite the same—but rather than picking up on the faint trail left behind by his trainer's brother, a different odor, something inhuman, and perhaps something dangerous.

Some nearby bushes rustled, and Pikachu tugged on his trainer's pant leg, alerting him to their visitor. Ash nodded, and he turned toward the brush with a readied stance. Both trainer and Pokémon cautiously waited with baited breath for whatever creature would greet them.

A Joltik popped out of the bushes.

"Aw," Ash sounded relieved, relaxing the tension in his shoulders. "It's so cute."

Joltik let out a terrible, high-pitched screech and launched itself toward Pikachu. The mouse-like Pokémon gasped and leapt up, avoiding the Joltik's tackle, and only when it turned to face them again did Ash and Pikachu notice that its eyes were not the cerulean blue associated with the species, but rather a deep indigo color. It was infected.

"Okay, Pikachu," Ash started seriously. "We gotta knock it out, but we gotta make sure it doesn't get too close to either of us, okay?"

"Pika!" Pikachu nodded, determined. Its cheeks sparked, and it unleashed a Thunderbolt attack—but Joltik, being an Electric-type itself, absorbed the move well.

"Ah, shoot." Ash bit his lip. He was hesitant to call Quick Attack, a Normal-type attack that Joltik wouldn't be resistant to, but it was a physical move that would put Pikachu in danger, and he wasn't willing to risk that.

Joltik, faster than anything they had ever seen of the species, sprung toward Ash and Pikachu once more, and they dove away in an attempt to escape. This time, however, Joltik was impeded by a beam of ice that slammed it back into the ground and knocked it out. Ash whipped his head around, and his breath caught, for there stood Silver at the top of a short plateau that rose only two yards off the surface where Ash and Pikachu were. Beside him was his Weavile.

"You're an idiot," Silver scolded, glaring. "If that thing bit you or your Pikachu, not even your magic 'Chosen One' powers could have saved you."

Ash continued to stare. Then, he grinned.

"You're here," he said, as if it wouldn't be real if he didn't state it.

"Yeah."

"What _are_ you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing." Silver jumped off the cliff and walked past Ash to examine the fallen Joltik.

"I saw you," Ash said, standing up and brushing the dirt off his jeans. "Last night, in my dream. I thought you might be here." He paused before adding, "Now you answer."

Silver pressed his lips into a hard line and cast his brother a suspicious gaze, watching him for a moment. Ash didn't move, waiting for a response.

"I'm headed somewhere," Silver answered vaguely. He looked back down at the Joltik. "Weavile, come." It did. "Take care of this one, too."

Weavile nodded and raised its claws up, apparently to impale the Joltik. Ash, with horror, quickly realized what was happening.

"Wait, wait!" He scrambled to stop them. "Don't _kill_ it!" Weavile held his pose but cast his trainer a questioning look.

"If we don't, it will kill something else," Silver retorted. "It would've killed both you and Pikachu if I hadn't stepped in."

"It's not its fault, though," Ash persisted. "It's sick. It doesn't know better." He dug through his bag and pulled out an empty Pokéball. "Here. We'll take it to a Pokémon Center and have the G-Men come pick it up. Gary—you remember him?—he's working on a treatment."

Silver's lip twitched but he gestured for Weavile to stand down, and they stepped back. Ash smiled gratefully and tossed the Pokéball toward the Joltik. The creature was absorbed into the red light, and the ball wobbled for several long moments before the distinct clicking noise indicating capture rang in the wilderness.

Ash let out a long breath, but he didn't move to pick it up. Pikachu's expression creased with worry, too, as he rejoined his trainer. Silver cast them an estranged look.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"I'd almost wished I wouldn't be able to capture it," Ash remarked, still staring at the unmoving Pokéball. "If it's wild, and if it's infected... who knows how many more of them there are out there? That was the thing Leaf was scared of the most—that it would reach wild Pokémon." Silver frowned at the mention of Leaf, but Ash, swept up by his own musings, didn't notice. "That was the thing we were all scared of the most, I think."

_**July 4th, 2009. Late Morning. Opelucid City.**_

"How do you plan on finding the abandoned Team Rocket Unova base?"

Leaf was turned away from the speaker of the question as she stared out the window from Iris's office, silently considering how to answer.

"I don't know," she eventually replied. "We might have to make some concessions, offer some mercy. Not to Giovanni, obviously, but to some lower-level grunts? Might as well." She threw a cautious eye over her shoulder. "I know you don't like that kind of thing, but I think the situation calls for it."

Lance's expression remained unchanged, but he nodded, apparently agreeing. He was not the only one who stood there. Paul was, of course, present, but he was joined by both Wallace and Cynthia, the latter of whom was watching Lance carefully, unamusedly.

Leaf turned to face them—Champions both old and new—more directly.

"We can't worry about that right now," she said. "I really just want to check out the Nimbasa location for SAMPLe again, but this Unova G-Men chief—" She stopped, shaking her head, and looked directly at Paul. "When did Iris say he would be here?"

"Around this time." Paul shrugged. "I'm sure he'll be here soon."

As if on cue, the door to Iris's office flew open, but the person who hurried inside was not a middle-aged male like they had expected, but rather Misty.

"Ash is missing!" she breathlessly informed them.

Everyone stared at this outburst. She had spoken so quickly that they had hardly understood what she said.

"What?" Leaf finally asked, and Misty sucked in her breath.

"Ash apparently left early this morning, to who knows where," Misty elaborated more calmly. "Serena was the last person to see him. He said he had a 'dream' and 'wanted to go for a walk.' We checked his room, and most of his stuff—his bag, his wallet, his clothes—it's gone." She hesitated before adding, "He left his phone and all of his Pokémon behind, except Pikachu. I think he knew we would take care of them, but he didn't want them with him, because having to travel and feed all of them would slow him down. We're pretty sure he went to find Silver."

"... Arceus," Leaf swore, growling. "I'm going to sock that kid in the face the next time I see him."

"Who? Silver or Ash?" Paul spoke up.

"Both," Leaf grumbled.

"Well, you won't be doing anything to Ash, because I want to punch him the next time I see him," Misty retorted.

"Fair enough," Leaf conceded.

"What are we going to do?" Misty persisted.

"Utilize every last resource in the G-Men to assemble a massive search party and find him." Misty glowered at Leaf, unappreciative of the sarcasm. Leaf continued, more seriously, "There isn't much I _can_ do. He's been gone since last night? Trying to find him would be waste of everyone's time and energy. Excuse my cliché, but it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack."

"He couldn't have gotten far on foot," Misty argued back.

"On foot, no," Leaf agreed. "But unless Silver was within a ten-mile radius of Opelucid, his chances of leaving on foot are pretty slim. If he took his wallet, he probably took a bus or a cab somewhere to get him closer."

"So we're going to do nothing then?" Misty looked and sounded exasperated. Leaf let a long sigh and threw her head back.

"No," she groaned with resignation. "I'll put in a ticket to track him through the Pokémon Center Network, and we'll ask Angela or someone to keep an eye on it. If Ash isn't smart—and he isn't always—he'll check into a Pokémon Center with his ID, and we'll know where he is."

Misty sucked in her breath but nodded.

"... All right," she eventually gave in.

They waited in silence for a moment when the door opened for a second time—although the person who entered was not whom they would have expected, either. Leaf immediately tensed up, while Lance narrowed his gaze; surprise crossed Cynthia, Misty, and Wallace's expressions. Paul was the only one apparently unaffected by the arrival.

Leaf moved forward, being the first to speak.

"... Are you the Ghost of Christmas Past?" she asked with an incredulous, biting laugh. "What are _you_ doing here?"

Erol Adalet's did not appear particularly amused either, but he forced a weary smile.

"I'm assuming Ms. Ajagara did not tell you then," he said.

"Tell me what?"

"That I am the person she hired to be her Chief of the Unova G-Men," Adalet answered simply. Leaf stared at him and then back at Paul, wondering why he hadn't told her, but he gave her no hint as to the answer.

"Well, this is uncomfortable," Leaf said, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

* * *

Drew immediately picked up his cell phone when it vibrated, not bothering to check the ID of who was trying to contact him; he was running on auto-pilot, and he now worked speedily and robotically, as if he were just trying to hurry the process and finish his job. It was appropriate, he supposed. After all, it was only yesterday he had learned he was just another cog in a machine Leaf carefully oiled and maintained for effective output—another chess piece on her favorite board.

"Hello?" Drew inquired. He added, "Who is this?"

"_It's me._" Leaf's voice patched through. Drew resisted the urge to hang up.

"What is it?" he asked.

"_You wanted transparency, so I'm giving it to you,_" she said simply. "_I'm about to head off to Nimbasa City to check out SAMPLe's office. Do you want to come?_"

"I'm thoroughly done with SAMPLe," Drew replied. "For now, at least."

"_Mm,_" she hummed. "_Smart choice, actually. The group that's going isn't the most amicable bunch._"

"Oh, so Lance finally showed up?" Drew immediately understood.

"_Well, there's more than Lance,_" Leaf said vaguely. "_I'll let you know what we find tonight._"

"Thanks," Drew mumbled.

"_One more thing: Have you seen Ash?_" Leaf asked.

"No?"

"_He's missing._" She said it far too casually, as if he were a misplaced set of car keys or a phone. "_He apparently left last night after having a dream. Gee, weren't we dumb for thinking that was over?_"

"Ash had a dream?" Drew perked up. "About what?"

"_Silver, presumably,_" Leaf answered. "_We think he left to find him, but we have no clue where he might have went_."

The news, though delivered in a dry, negative tone, produced an unexpected and complete renewal of faith in Drew. Hope, and pride, swelled in Drew's chest as he drew in a warm, curative breath. It was strange, because he had been cautious of Silver and uninterested in reconnecting with him since the day he left seven years earlier, but the fact Ash was on the move foretold a climax to the agonizing story he had endured. His lips twitched into a smile.

"Well, thanks for telling me," Drew said. "I'll let the others know."

"_Thanks._" The conversation ended there, and he dutifully rose to his feet and moved out from his desk to find the others: May, Max, and Dawn were his first targets, as they were the closest to him.

"Hi," May greeted him with a weak smile. "What's going on?" She then noticed, with surprise, that a change had taken place in her boyfriend: A renewed vitality, which she usually only saw prior to a performance, had descended upon him, and his green eyes were lit with untold excitement. Max and Dawn straightened up, also noticing the new aura about him.

Drew leaned over the desk, toward them.

"Ash saw Silver," he said with a low, though anticipatory voice. He sounded as though he could hardly still believe it. "He's going to find Silver."

_**July 4th, 2009. Late Morning. The Village of Dragons.**_

There was nothing but blue, blue skies overhead as Cilan and Iris trekked the worn, overgrown, yet sadly familiar path leading to the village graveyard. In Iris's hands was a small wooden box with elegant designs carved into the surface; it was so small, in fact, that she could have easily held it with one hand, but to do so would feel irreverent.

Iris was the one leading the way, and when they stepped through the boundaries into her clan members' final resting place and saw the garden of marked rocks and headstones, her grip on the box tightened. Cilan—carrying a shovel he had borrowed from Shannon—stopped, watching her. He wasn't sure where she intended to bury their daughter, and perhaps she wasn't either.

But with a resolved breath, Iris moved forward again, toward two graves which rose from the ground close to one another. Reading them gave Cilan a jolt, and he looked at Iris with surprise.

"Are these your parents' graves?" he asked.

"Mhm." She knelt between them. Into the gray stones were carved the names "Nalini Ajagara" and "Mukul Ajagara." No dates of living were presented, and whether that was because it wasn't protocol for the villagers to add them or because Iris was too young to recall their birthdays, Cilan wasn't sure.

"I didn't realize they were buried here," he confessed, kneeling beside her.

"Yeah." Iris nodded. "The Elder—" She stopped short and hesitantly amended, "—Eugenia, after the day of my rescue, asked some men in the village to hike up into the mountains and find their bodies. She had already accepted me as a part of the clan, and she felt it was important they find the bodies and bury them, so I could have closure."

Cilan offered his wife a weak smile.

"She was wonderful to you."

"She was," Iris agreed. "I could never hope to make up what she did for me, for someone who wasn't even her own daughter. But I can't forget what my parents did for me, either. If it weren't for them, I would have died, too." She laid the box down on the ground. "That's why I want her buried here, between them, because I know they'll keep her warm."

Cilan's breath caught. The meaning was not sentimental for him, but the quaver in her voice touched him with equal emotion.

"I... I think that makes a good resting place," he finally managed.

It only took five minutes, if that. They didn't have to dig deep—less than two feet, and the hole did not need to be any wider than eight inches in diameter. When it was open, however, and when Cilan stood back, Iris gently laid their daughter at the bottom and backed off for it to be filled.

Silence—contemplative silence—followed. Iris was on her knees in front of the grave, her long hair being whisked in thin strands in front of her face by the warm summer winds. Cilan sat beside her, occasionally watching her, and occasionally paying respect to their child's grave.

"You know," Iris was the one who broke the reverie, "Nalini—my mother—her name means 'lotus.' And Mukul means 'bud,' as in the bud of a blossom."

Cilan cast her another careful glance.

"So your family has a tradition of naming its members after flowers?" he asked with mild amusement. "Iris?"

"I guess so." Iris cracked a smile, a scarcity in the past few days. "I didn't really think about it, until just now. It makes me really like the name we picked."

Cilan smiled as well.

"I like it, too," he said.

Another brief silence followed, and Iris sucked in her breath, deciding to address the thin, invisible wall the extended between them.

"Do you ever regret marrying me? Like, do you ever think it was a mistake?" she asked suddenly. Cilan looked at her with surprise, and she flicked her eyes back toward him with a strange expression. "Sorry, is that a bad question to ask?"

"I..." He shook his head. "No, of course not. I don't regret our marriage, nor do I think it was a mistake. Have I ever given an indication that I'm unhappy in it?"

"No." Iris absently trailed her finger down the fabric of her own skirt. "But I sometimes wonder, I guess. I feel like our relationship is a lot of me taking, and a lot of you taking care of me. And the one thing I could have given you..." Her eyes moved to the grave again, and Cilan stiffened, understanding the implication.

"Iris," he began firmly. "We are still young. Having a family of our own is not a dead dream. We just need time; we ought to wait until we're both emotionally ready again."

"Yeah..." Iris mumbled. "Still..."

"It's for better or for worse," he reminded her. "We make those vows for a reason. We both have and will continue to fall upon hard times, and that vow is a reassurance—or, at least, it should be a reassurance—that we will remain committed to each other throughout them."

"It's not easy when you're always the worst part."

"You're not the worst part, though." Cilan managed to catch her gaze, and he tightly clung to it. "The politics, the social constraints, the threats... that's the worst part. You, though—you're the best part." He could see her heart swelling in her eyes, and so he added, only to drive in the point, "You've always been the best part, and you're what makes it all worth it."

_**June 25th, 2005. Evening. Striaton City.**_

Things happened very quickly for Iris and Cilan after their first kiss—and they told no one of it.

Iris did not return to Opelucid that evening and call up Dawn or another girlfriend to gush about how Cilan, the man with whom she had been in love with for too many years, had finally reciprocated her affections. Cilan did not tell his brothers of the moment he and Iris had shared at the bus stop, nor did he give any indication the relationship had changed.

It _had_ changed, though. Cilan heard, through the grapevine, that Iris had canceled her follow-up date with Benga, and when she returned the following the weekend, their second kiss occurred within only twenty minutes of her arrival, while Cress and Chili weren't looking. They quickly became drawn further into each other and away from others, as young lovers do—they disappeared to the Striaton City gardens for an hour to further nurture their rapidly developing passions—and that alone might have incited the suspicions of Cilan's family, but either he and Iris were excellent at being subtle, or his brothers weren't paying close attention.

They kept it all a secret, though, for some unspoken fear that this newfound romance was a ghastly mistake, and they, sharing the same friends, did not want to deal with an embarrassing, dividing fallout should the relationship fail. By the third week, they were still hesitant to give any hints as to their developments, but it was during that same week it became solidified, in their minds, that this was _not_ a fluke.

"How do you make it look so nice?" Iris complained, glowering at the perfect swirl of white frosting that topped his cupcake while hers, in comparison, was sliding off at the edges. Iris had mentioned she was feeling her rare sweet tooth earlier, prompting Cilan to suggest they should bake something, to which Iris cheerfully agreed.

"Years of practice," Cilan replied with a smile and a shrug.

"Okay, sure." Iris rolled her eyes. "What's the _real_ reason?"

Cilan paused, turning the question over in his mind. He picked her cupcake up and swiped a bit of the sloppy frosting off to taste.

"The magic touch," he teased with a wink. Iris's breath temporarily hitched at the sight; she had no idea whether Cilan had intended to produce this effect or not, but it made her antsy in a thrilling sort of way.

"You're so annoying." Iris hardly sounded annoyed, though, as she stood on the tips of her toes to kiss him. She could taste the lingering sweet cream on his lips, but she didn't have the time to enjoy it, as the door opened and both Cress and Chili ambled inside. Iris and Cilan staggered apart.

"Aw man, you guys decided to make treats without me?" Chili whined. "No fair."

"You're free to have some," Cilan offered, setting Iris's cupcake down again. "We won't eat all of them."

"Yeah..." Iris added. "No way we can finish them all." She pulled on the edge of her skirt nervously and cast an amatory glance at Cilan. Cress noticed the look, and he raised his eyebrows.

"You know," she continued, suddenly grabbing her and Cilan's cupcakes, "why don't you and I head to your room and watch a movie?"

"A movie?" Cilan blinked. Iris usually wasn't interested in his collection of films. She enjoyed them, but they often had to pause midway through because she couldn't sit still for that long.

"Yeah." Iris nodded, persistent.

"Well... all right," Cilan conceded. They left together, and Chili and Cress exchanged suspicious glances.

Upstairs, Cilan let him and Iris into his room, shutting the door behind them, and headed for the set of DVDs he had neatly organized on a shelf. Iris set the cupcakes down on his nightstand.

"What are you interested in watching?" he asked, facing her. "Maybe—" The rest of his words were lost against her lips in a rather fervent kiss, and Cilan suddenly realized she hadn't been interested in watching a movie after all.

He kissed her back with equal ardor, and it wasn't long before she pulled him onto the bed with her. Each kiss left him breathless and with an anxious tightening of his gut, especially as she ran her fingers through his hair. His hand groped for the drawer in his nightstand. He remembered that Chili had once gifted him with a pack of condoms as a joke, and while Cilan had rolled his eyes at the time, he was certainly thankful now.

Yet, as soon as he managed to tear the drawer open, the sound of knocking wood seemed to instill some sense of reality in him again, as if what was actually happening finally set in.

"Iris..." He backed off of her, and she sat up with a confused expression.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

"No... I just..." Cilan began hesitantly. "This is a very serious step, especially for us, since we haven't been..." He trailed off, unsure of which word to use—dating, perhaps? Were they dating? Had he truly taken her out on a date? There was their time in the gardens, but there wasn't a lot of talking involved then. He decided to redirect his sentence. "I don't want to give you the wrong impression if I bed you too early. I don't want it be a mistake—I don't want either you or I to regret it."

"I'm not getting the wrong impression," Iris assured him. Cilan looked unconvinced, and she sighed before gently grasping his face. "Look—to me, this is all just making up for lost time. It's not like we're strangers. We've been friends for forever, and we care a lot about each other. I think, no matter what, we're not going to stop caring about each other. So I'm ready if you are."

Cilan watched her silently for a moment, considering her words. She smiled again, and he leaned in to kiss her once more.

_**July 4th, 2009. Afternoon. Opelucid City.**_

Misty was dispirited by the time she returned to the Pokémon Center, and so she went to the only other person she knew who had any chance of restoring her faith.

She found Brock in the back end of the center, as she would have expected, engrossed in his work. Misty thought for a moment that Karina's sickly Purrloin, lying still on the table, had finally passed the veil of life to join her trainer, but she soon realized that Purrloin was actually asleep, having been subjected to another round of sleeping powder so Brock could tend to it without fear of biting.

"Hello Misty," Brock greeted when she approached. "How's your day been?"

"I'm guessing Gary didn't tell you, then," Misty mumbled.

"Tell me what?" Brock blinked.

"Ash disappeared this morning," Misty said shortly. "We think he left to find Silver."

Brock let out an exasperated breath and shook his head.

"Gee, I've only been here for a day, and already, he's getting himself into trouble."

The Purrloin in his hands stirred, the effects of the sleep aid starting to wear off. It perked up and looked directly at Misty, and she gasped and backed away, thinking it would jump at her. Brock scrambled to get more sleep powder, but when he had it in his hands, he spun around to see an unusual sight: Purrloin wasn't moving. Its aggression had seemingly vanished as it looked upon the redhead sadly, though with interest.

"It's not attacking us," Brock realized with disbelief. "Why isn't it attacking us?"

_**July 4th, 2009. Afternoon. Driftveil City.**_

The nearest Pokémon Center was a couple hours away from the route Ash and Silver had traveled, and Ash anxiously went ahead with the hope that his newly captured Joltik wouldn't wake up, break out of its Pokéball, and attack them again. Silver seemed cautious of the same hypothetical situation, as he would constantly cast cursory glances toward the Pokéball held tightly in his brother's hand.

It was a relief when they finally walked through the doors of the Driftveil Pokémon Center without incident. Ash sighed upon the arrival, in fact, and jogged toward the counter with Pikachu in tow. Silver was slow to join them.

"Hello, how may I help you?" A fresh-faced, smiling Nurse Joy greeted him.

"Uh... hi!" Ash gave a little wave. "I actually have a Pokémon that I think might be... infected? You know, with that virus the G-Men talked about?"

"Oh!" Nurse Joy tensed up, appearing far more nervous now. It became apparent this was the first incident she'd had to deal with, as she fumbled with a printed packet that listed the protocol for this situation. She scanned through several pages before offering Ash a clipboard, pen, and a different printed form. "Here, take this and fill it out, and I'll take your Pokémon—what species is it?"

"A Joltik," Ash answered.

"Right." Nurse Joy took the Pokéball and whisked it away, while Ash picked up the clipboard. He cast a silly, hopeful grin at his brother, who was still hanging back. Silver only stared blankly in return.

Ash moved toward the nearby sofas, falling back onto one so he could focus on filling out the form. Pikachu climbed up onto his lap and leaned back against Ash's chest, so his trainer would have the necessary arm room to write. Silver furrowed his eyebrows and approached, eventually taking the seat beside Ash. He peeked at Ash's progress and noticed that Ash had already made the cardinal mistake of putting his full name, "Ash Ketchum."

"Don't do that." Silver took away the pen from Ash and scribbled out his name, replacing it with "Oscar Soul." Ash looked at him with confusion.

"Why not?" he inquired.

"Do your friends know you're here?" Silver responded with another question.

"No...?" Ash answered tentatively.

"I can guarantee they're looking for you," Silver said. "Putting down your name will sound the alarm. They don't know who Oscar Soul is, though."

Ash blinked but smiled.

"Is that what you go by now?" he asked as he continued filling in the necessary information.

"Go by what?"

"Oscar," Ash clarified, glancing up at Silver. "Do you want me to call you Oscar now?"

"I don't care what you call me," Silver dismissed. "Choose whatever suits you best."

"It doesn't matter what suits me best; it matters what suits _you_ best," Ash pressed.

"I have no attachment to any of my names, Ash," Silver said tiredly. "I genuinely don't care."

"Then I'll just continue calling you Silver."

"Fine."

A moment of silence passed without further exchanges, but Ash, unable to remain quiet for too long, spoke up again.

"Why'd you start using Oscar anyway?" he asked. "You don't strike me as an Oscar. N thinks that's your name, though, so it's got to have been a while since you started going by it, huh?"

"The fact I don't strike you as an Oscar is exactly why I started using it," Silver mumbled. "How do you know N?"

"Some friends accidentally hit him with a car," Ash answered with a shrug, and Silver cast him an estranged look. Ash looked up again. "How do _you_ know N?"

_**April 11th, 2007. Evening. Black City.**_

"Were you able to find everything you needed today?" the old, bleary-eyed clerk asked as Silver pushed several items—a couple empty Pokéballs, some potions, and other sundries—toward him from across the counter. Silver paused, giving his own wares a quick once-over, before nodding, and the clerk rang him up.

Silver shuffled his feet impatiently, and he cast his gaze about the convenience store, examining some of the advertisements hanging on the wall—for alcohol, for snacks, for PokéProducts, and for the league, of course. His eyes eventually fell upon a silver-haired woman standing in the corner, and he wasn't sure how he didn't notice her first, because she was clearly watching him with a strange, almost sensuous appeal in her ruddy eyes. Silver stiffened.

"That'll be—" the clerk started, but Silver hastily cut him off.

"You know what? Never mind," he said. "I forgot that I left my money at home. Sorry." He turned on his heel and quickly left the store, doing nothing to tend to the clerk's bewilderment. Silver wasn't sure whether the woman had followed him, though he sincerely hoped she didn't, but he knew she had when he heard her speak from behind.

"You know, I_ thought_ it looked like you," she remarked huskily. "Then I saw the eyes, and I knew for sure."

Silver stopped and shut his eyes, groaning. Then, he slowly faced her.

"Hello, Oakley," he said flatly.

"Hey, kid." She grinned with sadistic delight, and she hadn't even done anything yet. "Long time, no see. How old are you now? 16? 17?"

"19," Silver mumbled, correcting her.

"Ooh, an adult," Oakley playfully commented. "I don't think I'll feel any remorse about this then."

"Where's your sister?" Silver asked, showing no signs of fear at the insinuations she was making. He supposed he had expected this confrontation to occur at some point, and now that it was upon him, he had already begrudgingly accepted his fate. For a fleeting moment, he wished he could call Lyra.

"Right here." Annie emerged from the shadows, and there were several other men with her. These men were dressed in sleek, dark uniforms with hats that had an identifiable white cross-stitch on the front. Silver let out a wondering breath.

"What are a couple of washed-up former members of Team Rocket doing with Team Plasma, the 'great crazies of Unova'?" Silver recalled the phrase with ease; it was something he had heard repeated, particularly by Domino and Petrel, several times during his years spent with the now-defunct crime organization.

"Not your concern," Annie dismissed.

"Just curious." Silver shrugged. "Might as well tell me. You're going to kill me anyway."

"We met Ghetsis and thought he was a swell guy." From her tone, Silver couldn't tell whether Oakley was being sarcastic or not. She reached for and enlarged one of her Pokéballs. Silver did the same. Even if he had accepted his chances of escaping the situation as slim—he was surrounded, and Annie and Oakley, he knew, were no regular grunts; they were perhaps the deadliest duo of Team Rocket back in its heydey—he wasn't going down without a fight.

"Go, Pawniard!"

"Come out, Feraligatr!"

When both Pokémon appeared, Silver couldn't help but scoff.

"Is that seriously the best you've got?" he mocked her Pokémon's size.

"Don't underestimate him," Oakley flirtatiously warned. "He'll cut you up to pieces. Believe me when I say I've seen it happen before." She then jerked her head toward the Steel-type. "Pawniard, Slash!" Pawniard leapt forward with a cry, charging toward Silver and his Feraligatr, and both braced themselves.

"Feraligatr, use Hydro Pump!" Silver ordered.

Feraligatr unleashed a blast of water, but Pawniard—fast for his species—easily dodged the straight-shooting jet. He blew straight past Feraligatr, however, having no interest in attacking the behemoth Water-type, and headed for Silver. Silver stumbled to the side, managing to avoid a knife straight to the gut—a fate which had almost killed a girl he once knew many years ago—but Pawniard had apparently anticipated his move, as its other arm came up and pierced him in the shoulder.

Feraligatr let out a terrible roar and charged toward Pawniard, ripping him off his trainer with his teeth and tossing him off to the side. Blood spurted from Silver's shoulder and he gasped, his knees briefly shaking before he fell to them. That attack—it was aimed for his heart, and he wasn't sure whether Pawniard had hit him there or not. Was a shot to the heart an immediate kill? He couldn't remember, perhaps stupidly so, but if it was, then the Steel-type had missed.

Before Oakley could call out another command, a familiar cry tore through the air.

"Stop!" N skidded onto the scene, standing in front of Silver protectively. "Stop it! This is a friend."

"N, stay out of this," Annie snarled.

"He saved a Ducklett's life, and mine, too," N snapped, unwilling to stand down. "Leave him alone."

N then turned and knelt beside Silver, who was grasping his bleeding shoulder in pain.

"Oscar?" N asked desperately. "Oscar, are you okay?"

"Oscar?" Oakley sneered. "Is that your newest nickname, Kamon?"

"Yeah... yeah..." Silver answered N. Evidently, however, he wasn't, because that was the last thing he could remember of that night.

* * *

When Silver cracked his eyes open next, he wondered if he was finally dead. The shooting pain in his left shoulder, which accompanied consciousness, told him he, unfortunately, wasn't.

Silver drew in several small, measured breaths, trying to reorient himself and remember what had happened before he passed out. A voice to his left, however, gave him the hint he needed.

"I've never been in a human hospital before," N mused aloud, looking around the room in wonderment. "It's so strange. Why is everything so white? When people describe seeing a 'white light' when they almost die, do they mean a hospital room?" He squinted at one of the square fluorescent lights above him, contemplating it.

"What the—?" Silver sat up in bed and winced as he did. "What are you doing here?"

"Hello, Oscar," N greeted pleasantly. "I'm so glad to see you're awake. I wanted to stay here and make sure you were okay. I was going to bring you to my father, so we could take care of you, but the store clerk called for an ambulance." He paused before asking, "How are you feeling?"

Silver blinked and tenderly touched his own shoulder, now wrapped in bandages.

"Fine, I guess," he replied. N nodded and sat beside Silver in an open chair near his bed.

"I want to apologize for the behavior of my friends," N started kindly. "They can be so rude sometimes."

Silver stared.

"... Well, thanks for saving my life," he mumbled. "I guess that makes us even."

"Oh, not quite," N reminded him. "You saved Ducklett, too. I don't expect Ducklett to repay you—as if Pokémon owe us anything anyway—but I host his debt."

"Right..." He briefly trailed off. "Well, answer me this question then: Why is Team Plasma working with former members of Team Rocket? The two hated each other at one point."

"Mm?" N blinked. "Oh. We always accept those who are willing to change and fight for the better of Pokémon."

"Fight for the—" Silver began incredulously. "Your 'friend' literally tried to kill me with one of her Pokémon."

"I told you she was being rude," N said.

"Yeah, yeah..." Silver shook his head. "Well, thanks again for saving me. You don't have to stick around here. I'm probably leaving Unova after this, now that I know they're here."

"I understand." N nodded. "Well, I couldn't stay if I wanted anyway. Ghetsis expects me." He rose to his feet and headed for the door, Silver watching him carefully every step of the way. When N's hand touch the doorknob, he paused and threw him a look over his shoulder. "Oh yes—I realize we may not have made the best impression, but if you ever feel that you want to change, too, Team Plasma is open to you. I like you quite a lot, actually."

"I think I've had enough experiences with one illegal organization to last a lifetime," Silver mumbled.

"I see," N mused. "Well, best of luck then."

_**July 4th, 2009. Afternoon. Nimbasa City.**_

"This is it." Leaf had led the group straight to the door of SAMPLe's office, where the hollow-eyed logo of the Buneary remained, more unnerving now than ever. Cynthia reached for the handle and tugged on it, but it didn't budge.

"It's locked," she said, glancing back toward the others.

"A stunning observation," Lance dryly remarked, and Cynthia gave him a dirty look.

"Lance, please," Leaf chastised him in her exasperation. "Step aside." She moved forward and, pulling a bobby pin out of her hair, stuck it into the lock. With some maneuvering, she eventually managed to wrench the door open. She cordially gestured toward it, as if she were inviting guests into her own home.

"I forgot how resourceful you are," Adalet remarked.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Leaf said.

They headed inside. Paul kept stride with Adalet and, leaning toward him, murmured, "You regret coming back yet?"

Adalet shrugged it off.

"I knew what I was getting myself into," he said coolly. Wallace stopped at the receptionist desk and slid behind it. He started opening the various drawers, looking for anything and everything that might be inside; he knew, from experience, what drawers could hold. The rest of the party, however, moved on into the silent kennels.

Leaf drew in a slow breath.

"Angela was right," she said. "Nothing here. This place was full of sick Pokémon when we visited."

"Well, let's take a look around," Adalet suggested. The trainers dispersed, each exploring a different area of interest. Paul trailed alongside the kennels, looking inside each on the off-chance that he might find something noteworthy in one of them. His instincts were apparently sharp that afternoon, as he noticed through the bars of one such kennel a small, clear pin. He opened the kennel up and delicately grasped the pin between his fingers. Dried blood marred the clear needlepoint.

"What's the matter with you?" Paul straightened and up and turned his head to see Leaf behind him; she apparently had picked up on his soured mood.

"Nothing." Paul looked away. "That was literally the worst car ride of my life."

"Why?"

"I honestly believe half the people who were in that car genuinely hate each other." He then added with a scoff, "Arceus, you'd think you and I were best friends in comparison."

"We aren't best friends?" she asked innocently. She moved on before Paul could say anything in response. He felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket, and he pulled it out with a sigh.

"Hello, Angela?" he answered the call. "Did you find Ash?"

"_No, sir,_" she replied. "_But another name sprung up in our system—Oscar Soul._"

"Who?"

"_Oscar Soul, the person who was attacked by Team Plasma two years ago,_" she reminded him. "_I pointed you to the report of his attack a couple months earlier. I put a ticket in to track his name, on the off chance it showed up, and it just did._"

"Where?"

"_Driftveil City._"

Paul pursed his lips, thinking.

"If it's not Ash, I don't care about it," he eventually concluded. "Oscar Soul is at the bottom of my priority list right now."

"_Understood._" Angela was disaffected by his mood. "_Sorry for bothering you._"

"Thanks for calling."

The group reconvened in several minutes, though most had little, if anything, to offer.

"The drawers in the receptionist's desk were completely empty." Wallace shook his head in disappointment. "No patient records, no employee files, no phone books—nothing. Either they effectively cleared everything out or there was nothing there in the first place."

"I couldn't find anything particularly notable, either," Cynthia confessed. "It's strange, either way. If they left and took everything with them, well, then obviously there's something they don't want us to find. If there was nothing at all to begin with, then it's clear this office was a mere front for Team Plasma's operations. In any case, they didn't just disappear. They're somewhere else."

"The Unova base," Leaf said plainly. "It's the Unova base. We have to find it."

"Mm..." Lance hummed. He turned an eye toward Adalet. "What about you? Anything?"

Adalet simply held up a clear, cylindrical container full of pins of the same colorless nature.

"These," he said. "This was all I could find."

He passed it to Leaf, and she stared at them with only mild, perhaps forced, interest before letting out a "Hum!" and setting them off to the side. She had no other comment to offer. Paul, on the other hand, perked up in alarm.

"Wait, those?" Paul held out the pin between his fingers. "I _found_ one of those—in one of the kennels."

_**July 4th, 2009. Afternoon. Somewhere in Unova.**_

Concordia was happy for her brother—really, she was.

N had received showers of praise since his debut on national television. Ghetsis, in particular, had commended him in sparking the effort that would ultimately bring on the downfall of the G-Men. The public's trust in the government was damaged—it had been since 2002—but this had fanned the flames, and the donations from sympathetic Unovans had started to pour in through their website.

It didn't sit well with her, though, especially as she turned the clear pins she'd found with dried blood on them over in her fingers.

_**July 4th, 2009. Evening. Driftveil City.**_

Ash sat upright in bed, his legs criss-crossed, as he watched Silver sit by the windowsill and stare absently at the cityspace. Ash was nothing short of thrilled to be with his brother again, but their reunion had been strained at best. For years, there was so much Ash had wanted to ask of his sibling, and it had been a growing list, but in one day, he had forgotten everything—every inquiry, every plea.

At least Silver hadn't made any visible effort to separate from Ash again. They had, in fact, ended up booking a room together in the Pokémon Center, under the name Oscar Soul, of course. That indicated to Ash that Silver was okay with him sticking around.

Finally, Ash cleared his throat and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

"So where are you headed anyway?" he asked.

"Hm?" Silver looked back at Ash.

"There's gotta be some reason you came to Unova," Ash went on. "Are you looking for N?"

"No," Silver scoffed. "I don't have a lot of interest in N."

"Then why are you here?"

Silver was silent for a moment. When he spoke again, he didn't look at Ash.

"You said you saw me in a dream, right, and that's how you found me again?" he asked.

"Uh... yeah!" Ash nodded.

"Well, I had a dream, too," Silver said. "I saw a Unovan address in it—one that's in Nuvema Town. So I don't know where I'm going, really, or rather, what I should expect to find. Maybe I _am_ looking for N and I don't know it yet."

"Huh," Ash mused. "Well, I don't think it's any coincidence that we both had dreams, and we ended up meeting each other."

"Mhm." Ash realized Silver had probably already reached the same conclusion, and that was why he hadn't tried to escape him again.

"So are you gonna let me tag along?" Ash asked hopefully.

"I suppose," Silver answered, "but only if you play the rules of the game."

Ash raised his eyebrows.

"Name 'em," he said.

"Don't bring the G-Men into this," Silver said simply, though firmly. "That includes Elite Four members, like Misty."

Ash stared. Outside, he could hear the first round of fireworks explode in the night sky. Then, he broke into a grin and laughed.

"Like good ol' times, huh?"

_**July 4th, 2009. Evening. The Village of Dragons.**_

The crackle of the fireplace, lit for no reason other than the ambient light it would give in the shadowed room, showered a reminder upon Iris as she stared longingly out the window, at the night sky—the stars were gorgeous away from the city—and she turned quickly on her heel to face Cilan.

"We're missing the fireworks," she breathed in remembrance. "It's Independence Day. We're missing the fireworks in the city."

Cilan, who was sitting upright in bed with one of his books, shrugged.

"There will be other years," he said. This answer dismayed Iris. Cilan _loved_ fireworks; they tended prompt one of his long connoisseur speeches, so to hear him brush it off was worrying.

Iris frowned and left the windowsill to crawl beside him in bed. Cilan closed his book and set it aside before pressing his lips against a bare spot on her shoulder. He would have loved nothing more than to make love to her that evening, but the doctor had instructed them to abstain for two weeks following her surgery, so their healing intimacy was found through other forms.

Iris let out a contented a sigh, but looked at him with earnest when she asked, "How are you doing?"

"Me?" Cilan blinked.

"Yes, you," Iris said. "I feel like everyone asks me, but no one asks you—but she was your daughter, too, and then on top of that, Karina..." She trailed off, and Cilan stayed quiet for a long moment.

"I'm coping," he eventually answered.

"I can tell you're upset," Iris pressed.

"Of course I am."

"I mean..." Iris realized it was a stupid thing to say. "You're holding back, though."

Cilan sighed at that, and Iris pursed her lips; she was right.

"... It is difficult to see you in pain and be unable to do much of anything to fix it," he eventually confessed, "especially because I feel I am at fault for so much of it."

"Well, it's my fault I didn't take my birth control," Iris offered him, almost as a strange joke. "You even set alarms on my phone to remind me, and I forgot anyway, because I don't know where my phone is half the time."

"I don't mean that," Cilan corrected. "But the fallout with your reputation... that _was_ triggered by me." He hesitated before adding, "And then there's—"

"—Burgundy," Iris finished for him, and he nodded. She paused, thinking, before continuing, "You know, Serena told me something yesterday that I really liked. Sometimes, the best you can do is just say you're sorry and do what you can to fix it. But there's no sense in fretting over what you can't fix."

"Easier said than done."

Iris let on an odd smile. The flames of the fireplace cast shadows across her face.

"Cilan, do you wanna know a secret?" she asked, leaning close to him. He craned an eyebrow, but entertained her with a nod. "If you want to help Burgundy, all you need to do is remember who you're married to and remind everyone else of it, too."

_**November 6th, 2006. Late Morning. The Village of Dragons.**_

That morning, Cilan had done the unthinkable, something no one—not even his own brothers—would have ever expected.

He skipped class.

It wasn't without reason, however. It was Iris's 20th birthday, and he had resolved long ago that he would want to be there on the day of, contrary to what Iris had assured him was okay. Iris was doubtful when Cilan said he wanted to celebrate with her and reluctantly agreed to meet him in her true home: The Village of Dragons.

True to his word, however, Cilan arrived in the settlement in the early hours of the day, greeting his sleepy girlfriend with a kiss. When she was more fully awake, she became exponentially more delighted by his presence. She knew Cilan's education was hugely important to him, to the point where even Chili and Cress would agree it was borderline ridiculous, but she was thankful he had come. She was admittedly estranged, though, when he excused himself during their breakfast and disappeared for maybe ten minutes—to where, he didn't say, but Shannon had remarked it looked like he was bound for the Elder's home.

When he returned, he suggested he and Iris head out for a walk to enjoy the resplendent cardinal colors of autumn and temperate weather that had descended upon the village, and she cheerfully agreed. They were only outside for perhaps fifteen minutes when a magnificent orange- and green-colored Druddigon ambled by, and Iris called out to him.

"This is Decebal," Iris introduced him to Cilan as she laid a gentle hand on the Dragon-type's thick, rough neck. "He's been living near the village since before the Elder took me in—since before I was born, probably."

"He's splendid," Cilan marveled. "It's a rare treat to see a Druddigon of this color."

Iris smiled, agreeing, but said nothing as she continued to pet the snout of the Pokémon in the direction of its scales; to do otherwise would tear up her skin. Decebal hummed in contentment, and Cilan smiled at it and Iris warmly. She soon noticed his watchful gaze.

"What?" she asked him.

"Nothing." Cilan shook his head. "Your relationship with Pokémon is something to admire, that's all. You've grown a lot since we were young."

Iris scoffed and said, "You've only grown more annoying."

"Thanks."

"I'm kidding," Iris laughed. "Geez. You've grown, too."

"It is true, though," Cilan pressed, walking up beside her. "You are an exceptional trainer. The love you have for Pokémon will carry you far as a leader, I'm sure."

Iris smiled weakly and looked back toward the Druddigon.

"Yeah, okay," she said, skeptical of his words.

"I am being sincere," he assured her. "I'm excited to see what you will do—how you will continue to grow and bloom—in the future, and I want to be there supporting you every step of the way."

"What are you getting at?" she asked warily. Cilan paused. Druddigon, deciding he was hungry, let out an appreciative grunt for Iris before moving on, and she let him go without complaint and turned her full attention to Cilan, maintaining her questioning stare. Finally, he grasped her hand and slowly, deliberately, sank to one knee.

"Iris—" he started, and her breath caught when she finally understood what he was doing.

"Wait—wait, what?" Iris interrupted him in evident shock. "You can't be serious."

"Iris Ajagara—" he began again, reciting her full name in a tone as grave and grand as he could, demonstrating that he was, indeed, _completely_ serious.

"No, stop." Iris pulled her hand away and stepped back with wide eyes. "What are you doing?"

"Well, I'm trying to ask you to marry me," Cilan said calmly, breaking away from his script.

"M-Marry?" Iris stumbled over the word. "_You_ want to marry _me_?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I do have a proposal speech memorized that explains all this, if you would let me finish," Cilan offered.

"I don't care about some dumb speech, just answer the question!" Iris said, exasperated. Cilan chuckled and rose to his feet again. He was taking her panicked reaction with surprising grace, considering how painfully alert his nerves were. The adrenaline, he supposed, was allowing him to maintain his composure.

"It's not complicated, Iris," he told her. "I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"You realize this means you'll be married to the Unova Champion, right?" she reminded him.

"I do," he replied, "and I don't care. I figured out long ago that the sacrifices I would need to make being married to the Champion couldn't even compare to the more immense sacrifice of not being able to love you. And so, that's why I ask you to do me the honor of marrying me and saving me from a terrible fate of living a life from which you are absent."

He had only managed to say fragments of his intended speech, but they were more than enough. He grasped Iris's hand, now trembling, and returned to his knelt position once again. From there, he pulled the box where he kept the ring out of his pocket and flicked it open, revealing the carefully selected engagement piece.

Iris took in a cleansing breath before smiling and nodding.

"Okay," she agreed. "Okay, I'll marry you."

He slipped the ring onto her finger, and she pulled his face close to kiss him. When he drew back, their hazy, amorous gazes connected, and while he recognized the familiar shadowy fate pooling at the center of her eyes, he focused his attention, for the first time, on the amber sunrise that portended a future much greater, and much more beautiful, than everything he had ever feared, and he suddenly wondered why he had feared it at all.

.

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	23. XXII: In Which Max Becomes The Keeper

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XXII: In Which Max Becomes The Keeper

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_**April 19th, 2007. Afternoon. Slateport City.**_

"What do you think of this one?"

Drew's eyes rose from his textbook as May, barefooted, stepped out of her dressing room in a long crimson dress that attractively clung to her shoulders and chest, but fell from her hips in smooth, shadowy drapes. She gave a delicate twirl, and the lower half of her dress rose in curved folds and spun with her like a carousal, but it came to a rest when she faced him again.

"You look great in it," he remarked after looking her over.

"Is it better than the blue one?" May asked earnestly.

"The blue one was nice, too," Drew conceded. "I think this one fits your shoulders better."

"Mm..." May paused long enough to examine her reflection in wings of the full-length mirror near where Drew sat. "I agree!" She hastened back into the dressing room and shut the door again, sliding the manual lock closed with a click.

"So does this mean we have a winner?" Drew asked amusedly.

"Well..." Hesitancy was evident in her voice.

"It _does_ look good on you, May," Drew assured her.

"What, don't you like looking at me in pretty dresses?" May inquired innocently. A contradictory set of mischievous blue eyes fluttered at him over the door. She added more seriously, "It's a special event, so I want a dress to match."

"Is it really all that special if the person being celebrated was cherry-picked for the job?" Drew asked wryly.

"Stop." Drew could no longer see May's eyes, but he was certain they rolled. "We don't know _for sure_ that Leaf was chosen."

Drew scoffed and said, "May, seriously, let's not kid ourselves." Silence followed. Only the sounds rustling fabric and clothes hangers emerged from behind May's door, and Drew eventually shrugged it off and returned to his book. He had an essay, one coincidentally about the changing political sphere of the league within the past thirty years, to finish by Monday. He had intended to dedicate the afternoon to research, but May had wanted to go shopping.

Finally, May's door opened again, and she came forward in her normal wear with several dresses hanging over her arm like a butler's towel.

"Okay, fine," she gave in. "It is pretty obvious—to us, at least—that Lance picked Leaf, and yeah, it's kind of weird, and yeah, it's kind of unfair. I don't think it will make Leaf a bad Champion, though. In fact, I think she'll be great!"

"Uh huh..." Drew's dubious tone didn't change.

"Geez." May glowered at him. "I don't understand why you study political science if all it does is put you in a sour mood."

"The truth can make you jaded," Drew said coolly.

"Isn't the truth supposed to set you free?"

Drew stared at this remark, his lips parting in surprise. May didn't revel in the moment; she turned on her heel and left to place her unwanted dresses on the rack, but kept the crimson one Drew had liked. Drew pressed his lips tightly together again and slowly closed his book.

"Anyway," May began when she returned, "I'm still excited. I mean, how often is it you get to attend a Champion's inauguration ball, and for a friend no less?"

Drew glanced up at her again.

"You know she's not going to be the only one, right?" he asked.

May blinked and knitted her brow.

"Not the only one?"

_**July 6th, 2009. Morning. Opelucid City.**_

"July 10th," Drew repeated into his cell phone's receiver, emphasizing each syllable. "At 7 p.m.? Yeah, that works fine. ... Drew Hayden. That's D, as in 'dog,' R-E-W, and Hayden, H-A-Y-D-E-N." When May, still underdressed for the day with her own phone in her hand, walked into the room, Drew hastened to end his conversation."Yeah, yeah, thanks. Okay. Saturday, then." He promptly hung up and offered her a smile. "Hey—good morning."

"Morning." May apparently wasn't interested in the nature of his phone call. "Have you read the news yet?"

"No?" Drew raised a careful eyebrow. "What happened?" He knew trouble was afoot given May's humorless expression and the very fact she was bringing up the news at all. She wasn't by any means uninformed, but she didn't keep a pulse on the media as rabidly as he and some of their other friends did. Perhaps it was why she could stay so optimistic; she was one of the few who wouldn't willfully poison herself.

Upon his inquiry, May turned the screen of her phone toward him, and Drew gently grasped the edges to read. The headline alone caused his stomach to twist sickeningly.

"... Arceus," he mumbled. "How far away is Driftveil from Nimbasa Town?"

"Not... too far..." May had already done the research, and she knew just as well as him that the implications were terrifying. Drew's fears were on the horizon, and they were hurdling toward them coming true, and there was little, if anything, they could do to stop it.

_**July 6th, 2009. Morning. Nuvema Town.**_

The gentle warmth of the summer breeze floated through the open windows of the yellow-stripped living room, causing the the green curtains' folds to ripple like the sea from whence the wind came. Emily McGonnigal did not live particularly close to the beach, but its presence carried far throughout the small town, and she could feel it most on balmy, sunny mornings like that one.

The television set was on and turned to the occupant's favorite morning talk show, as it always was, but the trifling conversations on the nice, tan couches had stopped. Breaking news of important-enough caliber had interrupted the chat.

"_For those of you just joining us,_" the anchor began smoothly, "_there's breaking news outside of Driftveil City this morning: The G-Men have confirmed a Pokérus outbreak among a colony of wild Joltik in the area. It is unclear how the virus reached the colony or if it's reached other wild Pokémon, but the matter is under investigation..._"

"This is so much scarier that I would have imagined," Emily said, aghast; he cell phone was pressed to her ear. "I hope you're taking care of yourself up there."

"_Yeah, I'm fine. There's really no need to worry about me, Mom._" Trip's voice patched in through the other end of the line. "_Most cases don't happen in the city. ... All this means is that it's less safe to travel than we might have thought._"

"It still makes me nervous." Emily laid one of her thin trembling hands in her lap. Despite her collected voice, her tremors returned every time she felt that pit grow in her stomach, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. At least Trip couldn't see her. "I need to go grocery shopping, but this virus business has me all worried."

"_You have to feed yourself, Mom,_" Trip reminded her on a nearly paternal note.

"I know, dear," Emily calmly replied.

"_Take Herdier with you._" Emily blinked upon the suggestion and glanced at the canine Pokémon from where she sat. He had been asleep on his designated, worn bed, but his head perked up when she looked his way. His tail began wagging and he sprung to his feet, his tongue hanging out of his grinning mouth as he panted; although his age had taken its toll on him, he still had the heart of a young Lillipup.

"Okay," Emily agreed. "I think he wants to go on a walk anyway."

"_All right. I'll talk you later then._"

"Yes, of course! Love you!"

The conversation ended, and Emily reached for the remote to turn off the television. The warning voices faded from the room, and Herdier bounded toward his mistress and pawed at the end of her skirt. Emily laughed—a rare, cheerful, almost youthful laugh that chimed like bells—and grasped the sides of his face to rub him behind the ears and kiss him on the edge of his nose.

_**July 6th, 2009. Morning. Somewhere in Unova.**_

Ash woke to a beam on sunlight, filtering through the unclosed spaces in the canopy of thick branches and bright green leaves, in his eyes. The scene was familiar; he had seen this image before under similar circumstances. Except, rather than wrapping his arms around himself to combat a shiver crawling up his spine, he raised his hand to wipe away a bead of perspiration.

Pikachu, asleep near his trainer's midsection, shifted to stretch his tiny arms, then curled up again. Ash was careful not to disturb his partner when he slid out of his sleeping bag.

Silver was not far off. He was bent over a campfire they had put together last night, and it was flaming again. Silver had laid a worn pot over it, and he was stirring something of an indeterminate scent over it.

"What're you making?" Ash asked, sitting cross-legged near his brother.

"Food," Silver answered shortly. He raised his eyes toward Ash then asked, "How far away are we from Nuvema Town?"

"You're asking me?" Ash blinked.

"You've traveled this part of Unova before," Silver said point-blank. "I haven't."

"Well, uh..." Ash furrowed his eyebrows in thought. "I don't think we're that far away from Nacrene City. Once we make it there, I know there are buses we can catch that will take us down to the Nuvema seaside. So... I think we can be there mid-afternoon."

"Mm," Silver hummed, and Ash wasn't sure whether it was a positive or negative response. Silver, he had noticed, was wary of public transportation. Not that Ash would blame him; he had spent several days turning over the story of Silver and N's last meeting in his mind, and at this point, he was almost surprised Silver had decided to return to the region. Doing so was at the risk of his own life if they ran into members of Team Plasma, since it apparently now housed former members of Team Rocket who still wanted Silver's head.

It told Ash that whatever they were looking for, for whatever reason, Silver must have felt it was important.

"Seriously, though, what are we eating?" Ash asked when the silence had sustained itself for too long.

"Potatoes with cheese," Silver mumbled the answer. He hesitated before adding, "Lyra makes it a lot. Better than this, because we had to use dried ingredients."

"Looks good anyway," Ash offered with a grin. "Are you and Lyra pretty close?"

"I guess."

"You know, I used to know Lyra and her friend Khoury," Ash said coolly. There was a flicker of some unpleasant emotion in Silver's expression upon the mention of Khoury, so fleeting that Ash didn't notice it. "Dawn and her still keep in touch, I think."

"Yeah... she brings you up sometimes..." Silver murmured.

"She does?" Ash raised an eyebrow.

"Don't you already have someone waiting on you?" Silver asked with noticeable ire, and Ash drew back in surprise.

"Sorry! I didn't mean it in... that way..." Ash spoke carefully. Lyra, he remembered, was always one of Silver's most sensitive areas. Silver had snapped at him once before seven years earlier over the same subject. He continued, "You mean Misty?"

Silver nodded with passive disinterest. His temper had quelled with Ash's reassurances.

"Er... uh..." Ash rubbed the back of his head sheepishly then laughed. "That's a weird one, actually."

Silver scoffed and shook his head.

"You'd think you two would've figured out after seven years," he said. "Then again, you didn't hesitate to leave or agree to my terms."

Silver's words were cutting—a slit at the throat that deprived Ash of breath and left guilt trickling down his neck and chest, where anyone could see it. He remembered the promise he and Misty had made to each other to be honest and open, and this was a failure to uphold his end. When he left, he knew in the back of his mind that Misty would undoubtedly be mad. However, it wasn't until then that he realized how uncaring his disappearance was.

"You left, too," Ash quietly pointed out.

The ladle Silver had been using clattered against the edge of the pot as he abruptly stood up.

"I'm not hungry," he announced with understated fury. "You can eat all of it." With that, he slid his hands into his pockets and walked away to pack up his sleeping bag for the day ahead.

_**July 6th, 2009. Late Morning. Opelucid City.**_

"I can see you're doing better."

The observation came lightly, in the dream-like voice with which Paul had already become familiar. It was the first thing Caitlin said to him that morning, after Reggie and Cynthia had left them alone, and Paul did not know what to make of it. Not a word had been exchanged between them yet, and still, she was able to make her assessment as if it was the truest thing she had ever said.

"I guess," Paul mumbled in response.

"Do you disagree?" Caitlin inquired, carefully folding her hands and laying them in her lap.

"No."

Caitlin let on an odd smile at the short answer. A glimmer of endeared exasperation shone in her hazy teal eyes. He had become no easier of a patient since their first meeting. The true answers—his feelings—still had to be wretched from his tense, calloused hands. He clung to them and hid them away, as if the seams holding his pride together would dissolve if he made the alleged mistake of letting them go.

"I suppose I understand," Caitlin mused. "'Better' does not always translate to 'happy.'"

He was silent upon this remark.

"I think returning to work has helped you," Caitlin went on.

"It's a distraction," Paul tentatively agreed.

"A distraction is not always terrible," Caitlin said. "Distractions offer you the time you need away from negative feelings. They alone _are_ not enough, however. You must rediscover the pieces of yourself, or your life, which made you happy and build upon those again." She lifted her head an inch further, as if to convey the greater importance of her next question: "Tell me, what has made you happy?"

He stared; his lips twitched.

"I don't know," he replied, almost dismissively.

"What drives you to carry on with what you do?" Caitlin rephrased her question.

"It's my responsibility."

"Why choose to take on the responsibility?" Caitlin asked. "You had the choice not to become Champion. Cynthia would not have forced you. You said you once aspired to be Champion. Why is that?"

"Every competitive trainer aspires to be Champion," Paul answered plainly.

"But why did _you_?" Caitlin pressed him further. Paul didn't answer, keeping a wary eye on her. Caitlin again modified her question: "Why did you become a trainer?"

He was more willing to entertain that query. Paul lowered his head, considering an answer. Finally, he said, "I wanted to get away."

"From what?"

"From my family," Paul answered. He hesitated before adding, "Not from Reggie, but from... all the problems that existed because our mother wasn't there, because Brandon wasn't there."

"Desperately so, as your license couldn't have been obtained through traditional means," Caitlin remarked. Paul winced; "traditional" was a less forceful way of saying "legal." He supposed Caitlin must have been able to guess at the truth with her somehow knowing his family's history.

"Yeah," he said.

"Was choosing to become a trainer a mere distraction, too, then?" Caitlin asked.

"... No," Paul answered slowly. "I liked battling. Turtwig and I—" He faltered, his stoic expression breaking apart long enough to show the emotional turmoil that still wracked him late at night, hours after Reggie had gone to bed.

"Liked?" Caitlin repeated questioningly. "Do you no longer like battling?"

He didn't respond again. For this meeting, Caitlin noted, he was definitely less hostile, but also less responsive—but perhaps more contemplative.

"It's certainly harder without Torterra isn't it?" she continued. "The connections we make with our Pokémon... for many, that's truly the rewarding part of being a trainer."

"Mhm," Paul hummed and moved his eyes away.

"Perhaps you need to take some more time to consider what has made training valuable to you," Caitlin suggested. "And if it indeed does have roots in those connections formed... I would look to build on those, so that you can find peace again. You have other Pokémon. But more than just your Pokémon, there are also connections you make with people. Consider building on those, too—with Reggie, with Leaf, with Iris... and perhaps with Dawn, too."

Paul pursed his lips. The tail-end of her advice was unfavorable.

"I can't deal with Dawn," he began, "when I'm already dealing with the disaster of the day."

* * *

Leaf didn't say a word when Misty walked into the office that morning; in fact, Misty wondered whether Leaf, who lied alone on one of the sofas with her dulling hair spilling over the armrest, had noticed her arrival at all. She was absorbed in the laptop propped up on her chest, and it was only when Misty approached her directly and quietly called her name that Leaf looked up.

"Are you okay?" Misty asked carefully.

"Not really." Leaf set the computer aside and sat up, rubbing the back of her pained neck. She dropped her hand. "I'm guessing you're not doing any better, though."

"Not really," Misty parroted before sinking to the open spot beside Leaf. They sat together for a while in silence before Leaf heaved a sigh.

"How could this happen?" she moaned. "We tried so hard. We wanted people to bring in their infected Pokémon, to close off the chances of it ever reaching the wild. And our worst fear has come true."

"Some people are careless," Misty muttered, "and in denial that _their_ Pokémon could_ ever_ be affected." She shifted her eyes toward Leaf then asked, "How did we find out about the colony anyway?"

"On Saturday, someone named Oscar Soul brought in a Joltik to the Driftveil Pokémon Center," Leaf explained. "His form said he caught it infected. We looked into it, and—" She stopped, shaking her head. "There were dozens of them. A couple were dead, actually. Something had killed those few—impaled them. But whoever was doing it, they stopped. And now who knows how many other infected wild Pokémon there are out there."

Misty sucked in shaky breath and pressed a hand to her face.

"We tried to find Oscar Soul and speak with him, but he had left the Pokémon Center by the time we got there," Leaf went on. "Paul's mad at himself, I know. Agent Gray called him when Oscar first showed up on the radar, and he dismissed it because it wasn't Ash and we were busy looking into SAMPLe."

Misty bit her lip at the mention of Ash. She was upset when he left, but two days later, she was now scared.

"Ash hasn't check into any Pokémon Centers yet, has he?" she asked.

"No." Leaf shook her head. Misty groaned and let her face fall into her hands.

"What if something terrible has happened to him?" she lamented. "There are wild, infected Pokémon out there, and if he hasn't found Silver yet—if he was looking for Silver at all—then he only has Pikachu with him. Not a person who's been bitten has recovered, and now there are seven people dead."

"Eight," Leaf corrected.

"Eight?"

"I received word that Brienda Andswarian passed," Leaf informed her. "It's actually nine, if you count Chris Rogers."

"Wow," Misty began dryly, "that makes me feel so much better."

"I don't know what you want me to say," Leaf said with exasperation.

"Have some sympathy at least," Misty retorted. "What would you do if Gary got infected?"

"Do you think I have no reason to worry?" Leaf fought back. "Gary works with infected Pokémon every single day. One mistake, and he, or Brock, or Bill, or his grandfather are infected, too. I have to trust that he knows what he's doing, though, and that he'll be safe. Why do you think I was so eager to pay for Clemont's kennels?" Misty snapped her mouth shut. Leaf continued, "Ash is naïve, and he lacks some common sense, but he is not incapable. We don't know what's happened to him, so we have to assume he's okay, because to do otherwise would be torturous. Have some faith in him. You're good at that."

"Oh now you're talking 'faith,'" Misty mumbled miserly.

"There's nothing else I can do about Ash," Leaf said tiredly. "It's out of my hands." Misty said nothing in response to that, and Leaf herself had nothing to add. It was one thing Misty never expected Leaf to admit; the one thing Leaf herself never would have wanted to admit: that she had lost control.

"I'd say the whole thing has gotten out of hand." Both Misty and Leaf's heads snapped up: Iris stood there in the doorway with Cilan a step behind her. The Unova Champion moved forward, continuing, "Cilan and I heard about the Joltik on the radio while we were driving back here. What's going on?"

"A lot." Leaf rose to her feet and went to meet both him and her. "How are you doing?"

"I'm better, thank you," Iris tacitly replied.

"Good." Leaf nodded. "I hope you're well rested and ready to go, because we've plunged into hell here."

"I've already been through it, so it's nothing I can't handle." She cast her eyes about the room. "Where is everyone?"

"Wallace is down in Driftveil City. Paul's at an... appointment," Leaf answered vaguely, hoping neither the couple nor Misty would inquire further, and luckily, they didn't. "Lance and your friend Agent—or rather, Chief—Adalet are at the prison where all the former members of Team Rocket are locked up. We're looking to strike a deal with one of the inmates. If they give us the directions to the Unova base, we'll let them out on probation." She suddenly added in a bitter tone, "Thanks for the heads-up on Adalet, by the way. I'm so glad you decided to hire someone who despises everything we stand for."

"Wait..." Cilan look at his wife with wide eyes. "Erol Adalet? You hired Agent Adalet?"

"The same person who had us locked up in the Opelucid police station seven years ago?" Misty appended with an incredulous laugh.

Iris appeared annoyed and shortly answered, "Yes, I hired him. He applied."

"Did _no one_ else apply?" Leaf asked.

"Look, I know we had some differences with Adalet—" Iris began, but she was cut off.

"—Differences is putting it lightly," Leaf scoffed. "Adalet _hates_ me. I'm the reason he left. Why would he even want to come back?"

"Because he saw that we despise everything we stand for, too, and he wanted to be a part of the changes taking place." Surprise crossed Cilan, Misty, and Leaf's expressions at the bold statement; Iris had taken Leaf's complaint and turned it on her. Iris went on, "I'm not going to lie: I have my own reservations, too. But if Team Rocket and Team Plasma are actually working together like Drew thinks they are, then we should have someone who knew about what happened seven years ago on our side, and Adalet is that person. I didn't want to waste time catching someone new up, and I knew you and Paul wouldn't want to, either. We don't have time to waste. Every day, another Pokémon or another person is dead or infected in Unova, and that's on my hands. Seven people—"

"—Eight," Leaf quietly corrected her. "It's eight now."

Iris looked at her morosely. The gravity of yet another life sunk on her, and Leaf felt a heavy lump form in her throat. Suddenly, she understood, and so did Misty and Cilan.

"My point stands," Iris eventually said.

_**July 6th, 2009. Late Morning. Location Unknown.**_

The lights of each floor passed over Adalet's glazed eyes in sharp yellow beams that quickly departed as he and Lance descended deeper into the underground prison. Lance watched him carefully in the dim, dampening atmosphere. They had not said much to each other since Adalet made his comeback to the G-Men on Saturday, and perhaps there wasn't much to say. The distance between them was the same when Adalet first resigned; the separation had been driven in by a little girl many years before, and the question of recovery was near-impossible now given that little girl had become everything Lance wanted and everything Adalet hated.

It was tragedy, in a sense. Lance might have called him a friend at one time. Then again, there were many people whom Lance might have called friends.

Adalet flicked his eyes toward Lance when he cleared his throat to speak.

"What have you been doing all this time anyway?" he asked.

"I was in Kalos," Adalet answered shortly. "I helped organize the dissemination of a crime ring known as Team Flare."

A thin smirk spread across Lance's face.

"I always knew you would do big things after you left," he said.

Another yellow beam flickered in Adalet's eyes.

"I always knew you wouldn't."

The elevator shuttered and screeched, metal grinding against metal, when it reached the desired floor. The doors crawled open, and Adalet stepped out into the hallway with Lance not far behind him. Both had made trip similar to this one, together in fact, so they already knew where to go.

A guard was posted outside the door where their prisoner awaited them. Lance flashed his ID—Adalet didn't have a new one, yet—and the guard nodded, indicating they could head inside.

A woman who was once much younger was sitting at a table with a slick metallic surface to which her hands her chained. Her amethyst eyes, which hadn't lost even a minuscule part of their vibrant hue despite her seven years spent there, flicked toward the two men, and she threw back her blonde hair with a quick flip of her head.

"Well, it's about time you showed up," she said.

"Hello Cassidy," Adalet greeted stoically. "My name is Erol Adalet. I'm the Chief of the Unova G-Men." He moved a hand toward Lance. "This is Agent Lance Grayson, of the Indigo division."

"Agent Grayson?" she guffawed. "No longer the top dog, Lance?"

"I retired two years ago," Lance said plainly. It occurred to him that she and most of her fellow former Team Rocket members were likely unaware of the drastic changes in leadership that had taken place since they were imprisoned and had spent years bitterly hating people who were no longer in power.

"Is that a nice way of saying you got your ass kicked in one of your conferences two years ago?" Cassidy taunted. "Or do they even have those anymore? Have the G-Men just stopped trying to hide the fact they're an oligarchy?

"I would watch yourself, Cassidy," Adalet warned. "You're not in a position to be snarky."

Cassidy fell back.

"Sorry," she mumbled insincerely.

"I'm assuming you've been told why we're here," Lance said.

"I have been," Cassidy replied with business-like stature. "I'm willing to help you. However—"

"—You're not in a position to make conditions, either," Adalet interrupted her.

"You're going to have to entertain this one," Cassidy persisted. "I can't get into the Unova base by myself."

"... What do you mean?" Lance asked.

"It has a type of—" She paused, searching for the right term. "—double-lock on it. Each set of partners in Team Rocket, at least the ones assigned to work in Unova, have half the key to the lock. Butch Stuart was my partner. He has the other half. So if you want into the Unova base, you need him, too."

Both Lance and Adalet exchanged dubious glances. Eventually, Lance shrugged, indicating to go ahead. Adalet looked back toward Cassidy.

"Very well," Adalet gave in. "We'll offer him the same benefits of parole if he agrees to help."

Relief briefly crossed Cassidy's expression. The tension in her shoulders relaxed.

"Butch?" she chuckled. "Of course he will."

_**July 6th, 2009. Afternoon. Nuvema Town.**_

Ash stared aimlessly out the window as the bus ambled down the road, passing familiar places of the small seaside town where his Unova journey first began more than seven years earlier. Pikachu was curled up on his lap, while Silver himself had dozed off out of boredom. Earlier in the ride, Ash had noticed Silver was fighting off sleep, and he grinned at him and offered reassuringly, "Don't worry. There are no Team Plasma people here, and if there were, I wouldn't let anything bad happen." Silver grunted, annoyed, but ended up nodding off.

The bus started to decelerate as it pulled up to the Nuvema station, its final stop, and parked with a jolt that shook its passengers. Silver, a light sleeper, immediately woke; his eyes flew open and darted about the area, but Ash grasped his shoulder, bringing him fully into reality again.

"We get off here," Ash told him plainly. Silver nodded and reached under his seat for his bag. The sleepy Pikachu, who also had roused with the sudden stop, shook himself awake and jumped to his trainer's shoulder as he, too, grabbed his bag. Together, Ash and Silver filed off the packed bus and into the fresh, ocean-scented streets of Nuvema Town. They separated themselves from the crowd before Ash turned to his brother again and spoke.

"So..." he began slowly. "48 W. Vitam Dr.?"

"Yeah," Silver confirmed. "Any idea where that is?"

"No clue." Ash shook his head. Silver pursed his lips and pulled his backpack off his shoulder again and dropped to a knee with it on the sidewalk. He rummaged through the pockets for a while until he pulled out an outdated PokéNav. Ash hovered over Silver's shoulder and watched him curiously as he punched in the address, and the presence felt so suffocating that Silver was nearly tempted to shove him back.

"It's about twenty minutes away on foot," Silver said, rising to his feet and moving forward.

"Great!" Ash called after him, following his lead.

Ash kept silent stride with Silver for a while, casting occasional glances toward him. Sometimes, he would try to start a new conversation, discover he would have nothing to say or decide that Silver wouldn't be interested in it anyway, and let the words die on his tongue. Silver's dispassionate gaze never strayed from the road ahead of him though, and eventually, Ash sulkily resigned to the stiff reticence that he couldn't seem to loosen despite two days reunited.

Both he and Pikachu perked up, however, when they reached the business district and could, at least, examine the local wares inside the wide windows. They could never spend too much time at each storefront, however, as Silver refused to slow down. Ash eventually did fall behind when he stopped at a street vendor and bought some burritos. He jogged to catch up with his paced brother and held out one of the food items to him.

"Not hungry," Silver mumbled.

"You didn't eat this morning," Ash reminded him. "You haven't eaten all day." He held the burrito out closer to Silver. "Come on—you can pay me back if you really wanna, but you gotta eat something at least. It's just plain beans and rice and cheese, nothing too fancy."

Silver eyes him warily but gave in, accepting the food offering and peeling away the thin foil to take a bite. Ash grinned and took a bite of his own meal before breaking off a piece to share with Pikachu. Ash finished before Silver did, but they both tossed their wrapping into the same bin just as they were leaving the business district and heading into the residential area.

Finally, Silver stopped, tilting his eyes up toward a faded green street sign.

"This is it," he said. "That's the sign I saw."

"In your dream?" Ash inquired, and Silver nodded. "Man..." Ash marveled, briefly glancing at the street sign. Indeed, it was Vitam Dr. Their arrival sent a chill up Ash's spine. It had to mean something that both he and Silver were there. It had to. He turned to Silver and asked, "Are you nervous? I'm a little nervous. I think I'm more excited, actually."

"Not really," Silver dismissed with a shrug as he started heading up the street, looking for the house labeled "48."

"Who do you think's gonna be there?" Ash inquired.

"I don't know."

"Mewtwo?" Ash suggested.

"Do you honestly think Mewtwo would be living in a suburb?" Silver scoffed.

"Just a thought..." Ash pouted. Silver didn't respond, as he spotted the number "48" in gold lettering near a reddish, wooden door at one of the houses. He stopped and flicked his head toward it, and Ash sucked in his breath. They headed up the driveway and to the doorstep, and they stood there for a while, neither moving.

"What are we gonna say?" Ash mumbled, leaning his head toward Silver. Silver merely shrugged, and another moment of inactivity passed. Then, Ash asked, "Aren't you gonna knock?"

"You're more excited about it, so why don't you?" Silver suggested flatly.

"Okay." Ash nodded, raised his hand, and, gathering some courage, gave several firm knocks at the wood paneling. Some muffled speech, indistinguishable to both Silver and Ash, could be heard from the other side. It took a while before the gold-colored door knob jingled from the fiddling of a lock and the door opened.

Neither side could have possibly expected or guessed who they would meet face-to-face. The color drained from the home owner's face, and he slammed the door. Ash gasped and banged against it.

"James?" The shock was evident in Ash's tone. "James?! James, was that you? From Team Rocket?"

He stopped and cast Silver a wide-eyed look. Surprisingly, Silver appeared similarly bewildered. Ash slowly, mechanically, turned his head back toward the door.

"We're not here to—" He began again in a more gentle tone. "We're not here to bring trouble or anything like that. Trust me."

They heard more muffled speech, except now it had an edge of desperation. Suddenly, it stopped, but the brief silence was abruptly ruined by the storming of a pair of angry feet. The door flew open, and Jessie violently grabbed Ash by the collar of his shirt and pulled him close to her face.

"_How did you find us?_" she hissed menacingly. Although Ash was no longer smaller than Jessie, her intimidating stature when angry had not diminished a bit, and Ash shrunk back.

"Sorry, we didn't—"

"—Get off of him," Silver snarled, grasping Jessie's hands and prying her off his brother. "He's with me, and I'm the one who took us here."

"And how did _you_ find us?" Jessie glared at him.

"Don't talk to me like that," Silver snapped. "I'm the reason you're not rotting in a prison cell."

James gently grasped Jessie's upper arm and pulled her further back. Still, her eyes, full of murder, never left the pair of siblings. From between their feet, Meowth poked his head out.

"Whoa! Twerp alert," he gasped. He then paused and gave both Ash and Silver a once-over. "Or, maybe not so twerpy anymore."

_**July 6th, 2009. Afternoon. Opelucid City.**_

Always, there was a tightening of the throat and a wrenching in the gut when Serena walked into the back end of the Pokémon Center and heard the harrowing cries—wrathful and despairing and unnatural—of the infected Pokémon who were housed there. The sounds were grisly enough when it was just Houndoom, and then just Purrloin, but now it was a chorus of heinous voices in an eerie song punctured by insectile screeching and clicking. Serena was tempted to cover her ears.

She found the team, and her own companions, in disarray. Bill was seated on a chair off to the side with Brock wrapping the esteemed researcher's left hand and wrist. The gauze had covered most of the afflicted area, but she could tell his skin was red and raw. Gary and his grandfather were hovering nearby, both wearing the same contemplative expression, a genetic inheritance for the former.

Serena cautiously approached Ritchie, one of the group members with whom she felt more comfortable, despite the fact he was conversing with Trip and another magenta-haired woman whose name escaped her. She was the new Unova Elite Four member; Serena knew that, at least.

"What happened here?" Serena asked nervously, fearing someone had been bitten.

"Bill got shocked by one of the Joltik, by accident," Ritchie answered her.

"That doesn't mean he's infected, does it?" she asked anxiously.

"No," Gary called from far away, apparently overhearing them. He slid his hands into his pockets and approached them before continuing at a more normal volume, "The virus is transmittable through saliva and blood. A thunderbolt will just burn."

"'Just' burn?" the Elite Four woman scoffed. "Well, I believe it now when you say that virus amplifies the Attack and Special Attack of Pokémon."

Gary appeared irked, and he turned his head away from her and back toward the scene. Yet, he soon sighed and said, "Arceus, this is a mess."

"How many Joltik are there?" Trip asked.

"Twenty-one total," Gary answered, "including the one the trainer 'Oscar Soul' sent to us."

"Oscar Soul?" Serena inquired, blinking.

"Some random traveling trainer who brought our attention to the problem," Gary replied. He then shook his head and left them behind once more, returning to his job. Trip took advantage of the opportunity, flicking his eyes toward Serena.

"Where's your friend Clemont?" he inquired.

"He's working," Serena answered in brief. "This situation with the Joltik has him stressed out, too. Why?"

"We're convening with the Champions later to..." He trailed off. "I don't know. To try to figure something out, I guess."

"I'll let him know," Serena said tacitly. She glanced toward Bill and the others again. He injury was now fully dressed. "... Do you think Ash is safe out there?"

Trip shook his head.

"Who knows?"

* * *

"_We struck a deal._"

Drew furrowed his eyebrows, initially misunderstanding what Leaf meant. He mistook the "we" for himself and Leaf, but given more thought, he realized "we" collectively stood for the G-Men.

"Struck a deal? Struck a deal with who?" Drew asked.

He was seated at his desk, as usual, and Leaf had called him with her daily update, as usual. It was not a favorable system, but it was a bearable system nevertheless. Then again, the only part that truly tried Drew was that it was Leaf who was calling. He would have honestly preferred Iris, except her chances of remembering to pick up a phone and call someone were slim, or Paul, but that might not have been much better either; Drew had the sense that the Sinnoh Champion was emotionally absent from a chunk of what was happening.

"_Do you remember Butch and Cassidy?_" Leaf asked.

"The names are familiar," Drew admitted.

"_They're former Team Rocket members,_" she explained. "_They actually were the pair we ran into while on our chilly adventure through Kanto and Johto. Her Ariados poisoned Paul. Anyway, we struck a deal: They get out on parole if they take us to the Unova base._"

"Gee, Paul must feel awesome about that arrangement," Drew said sarcastically.

"_Paul's indifferent to most things nowadays._" Leaf paused before adding, "_Cassidy almost killed me, too, actually."_

"I thought that was Domino."

"_That was different,_" Leaf corrected. "_Cassidy tried to attack me with her Granbull, and it would have ripped me up if Lance hadn't stepped in._"

This disclosure unsettled Drew, and he asked, "Why are you in dealings with these people?"

"_Desperate times call for desperate measures,_" Leaf said coolly. "_Adalet actually agrees with me on this one._"

"Excuse me?" Drew sounded appalled. "Did you just say 'Adalet'?"

"_Oh, yes—I didn't tell you this, did I?_" Leaf recalled with nonchalance. "_Iris hired our old friend Agent Erol Adalet as her new Chief of the Unova G-Men._"

"You're kidding me."

"_I don't understand it either._"

"Desperate times call for desperate measures," Drew parroted her, and Leaf was silent for a while, to the point where he couldn't tell if she had hung up or not.

"_Anyway..._" Leaf's tone when she spoke next was unreadable. "_I was just letting you know._"

"Thanks, I guess," Drew mumbled.

"_Actually, I should really thank you,_" Leaf said, catching Drew by surprise. "_I don't think any of us would have thought to revisit the search for the Unova base if it weren't for you._"

Drew pressed his lips into a hard line.

"Let's just hope it yields results."

_**July 6th, 2009. Afternoon. Nuvema Town.**_

James eventually ushered both Silver and Ash inside, for no reason other than he didn't want Jessie's confrontation to make a scene in the quiet neighborhood; it was not done out of hospitality, a "Hey, it's been years since we last tried to steal your Pikachu, so what's up?", but rather out of some kind of mysterious fear that Ash could not understand and to which Silver seemed indifferent.

Even with a couple minutes' time to adjust to the shock of her unexpected visitors, Jessie's demeanor had grown no less hostile. Her entire body was visibly tense; every hair, every nerve, stood alert as it would for a feline in consternation. James was the opposite. His shoulders had shrunk and he was wringing his hands together, an invisible tail cowering between his legs. Meowth was perhaps the most human of them all.

"So... been a long time, huh?" Ash began tentatively after James had awkwardly seated them on the couch.

Jessie, who had refused to sit down, whirled toward him and snarled, "You didn't answer my question. How did you find us?"

"Silver had a dream that showed we had to come to this address," Ash answered.

"Yeah, right," Jessie scoffed.

"No, really!" Ash turned to Silver. "Isn't it?"

"Mm," Silver hummed, a weak affirmation.

Jessie clearly wasn't convinced, but she changed her question: "What are you doing here?"

Ash blinked and looked at Silver expectantly, as if he would have the answer. Silver, however, maintained his impassive expression, and he gave no indication that he intended to respond. In fact, he eventually flicked his gaze toward Ash with understated regard, and Ash realized that Silver was handing the reins over to him. Ash lowered his head and thought it over—why Mewtwo, if it was him, would _possibly_ send them there—and realization came with the memory of a furious exchange that was not his own.

"Drew!" he blurted out. "Do you guys remember Drew?"

"Which twerp is dat?" Meowth asked.

"Green hair," Ash tried to jog their memories.

"There are two with green hair," James pointed out.

"The coordinator from Hoenn, not the connoisseur from Unova," Ash clarified. "Him and his Roselia destroyed the lightening rod on your balloon once with a Solar Beam."

"Ohh yeah." Meowth squinted, straining to recall the memory. "I tink I remember dat."

"Yeah, well," Ash went on, "he recently made this connection between Team Rocket and Team Plasma. Annie and Oakley—do you know them?—were working with some guy named Elijah Colress, who I guess works for Team Plasma and for some company called SAMPLe, which actually is just a disguise for Team Plasma, and they had this office, but now they've disappeared and—" Ash stopped short when realized he had completely lost the trio of former Team Rocket members. Even Silver was giving him an odd look. "Anyway, Team Plasma and Team Rocket are connected. Silver knows, because Team Plasma members, who were really just former Team Rocket members who didn't go to jail, attacked him and—"

"—Can you get to the point here?" Jessie asked impatiently.

"Can you help us get to the Unova base?" Ash asked eagerly. "We think maybe, just maybe, there's a chance we can find something there, something that can help us find SAMPLe and a cure to this virus."

Jessie and James exchanged cautious glances.

"Define 'us,'" Jessie asked suspiciously.

The question strangely surprised Ash, and he could soon feel the pressure of Silver's gaze on him.

"Well... uh..." Ash began hesitantly. "I mean, my friends are the ones looking for the cure... so Gary... and Paul... and Iris..."

"So, the G-Men?" Silver asked flatly, and Ash winced.

"I mean—" he started again, but his stammers were crushed by Jessie's bravado.

"—Sorry, but no thanks," she said dismissively. "Maybe you haven't realized, but we're still wanted criminals by the G-Men, and taking you to the Unova base would be considered treason against Team Rocket. Even if it's disbanded, there are still people so loyal that they'll come after..." She trailed off suddenly, provoking confusion in both Ash and Silver—until they noticed a violet-haired toddler, barely 2-years-old, standing at the bottom of the stairs with a worn, patterned blanket grasped tightly in one hand while the other rubbed sleep from his bright green eyes.

"Precious, darling boy," Jessie cooed with a gasp. In an instant, _everything_ about her sour disposition had changed. "Did Mommy wake you up with her yelling? Come here, I'll warm some milk up for you and give you a snack."

She swept him up into her arms to kiss him, and when she pulled away, she used her thumb to affectionately rub off some of the red lipstick residue she had accidentally left on his cheek. Ash, his eyes wide, slowly rose to his feet; suddenly, everything—Jessie's aggression, James's nervous agitation, the general high-strung tension—made sense, and Pikachu almost had to remind his trainer to breathe. Silver, meanwhile, stared at the child blankly, as if he couldn't comprehend its existence.

The silence fell thick when Jessie whisked her son off to the kitchen, and it was a while before James cleared his throat to speak.

"Well... uh..." he began, unsure of where he was going. "Look, I know that virus is really terrible. Jessie and Meowth and I have watched the news, too. But we have other priorities." It wasn't until that moment that Ash noticed the gold wedding band on his finger.

"Yeah," Meowth added, folding his arms. "You don't tink I'm nervous, as a Pokémon? Truth be told, we'd probably pack up and leave the region—we probably would'a done it long ago, actually—if it weren't the fact that we'd get stopped and arrested at an airport, ya know?"

Silver nodded understandingly, but Ash couldn't help but speak up.

"It's been seven years since you disappeared, though," he said. "There's been huge changes in the Champion line-up. Paul wouldn't care whether you were in or out of jail, trust me. And Iris—she's one of the most surprisingly forgiving people I've ever met, and if she knew you had a kid, there's no way she'd want to do anything to you guys. And Leaf... seriously, she's a very fair person, if you agreed to help her, she wouldn't punish you either, and she'd probably offer you protection against any old Team Rocket members who'd want revenge."

Silver audibly scoffed and looked away.

"Don't trust Leaf," he said, and Ash glowered at him.

"Okay, I know you have your problems with the G-Men," Ash began in an annoyed tone. "But, you know, a lot of those people are my friends, and at one point, they were your friends, too."

Silver let out a strange, short laugh that caught Ash off guard.

"Friends? They were never my friends. I'd be willing to bet they've spent the last seven years hating my guts and not saying a damn thing about it, at least not while you're around." Ash was stunned at this, and Silver shook his head before looking his brother straight in the eye and continuing, "Do you want to know why I left seven years ago?"

The question was left hanging as a woman's scream rippled through the air from somewhere outside of the house but definitely nearby. The three men's shoulders pricked with alarm.

"What was that?" Ash asked, looking toward James with the question of whether this was a regular occurrence.

"I don't know." James quickly shook his head.

The scream came again, and it persisted.

"Someone's in trouble," Ash decided with serious determination, and he bolted out the front door. Silver called after him by name, and briefly fell back with ire, forgetting Ash's lack of hesitation in rising to the occasion, before following.

The cries of distress, Ash found, were coming from next door. He didn't pause to consider the consequences of throwing himself into the locked door, into the house of a stranger, and Silver had never cared for considering such consequences. The yellow-stripped front room was empty, but evidence of an altercation existed in a potted plant that had fallen and broken against the cream carpet, spilling dried soil across the ground, as well a few spots of blood that led up the stairs.

Ash tore along the red path, in the direction of the screams, and he found on the top floor a aged, blonde-haired woman pinned on the ground by a rabid Herdier driven by obvious bloodlust. He was trying for her throat, and she was fighting him off with her bloodied arms, but she was tiring quickly against her Pokémon's savagery.

"Pikachu, use Thunderbolt to get that Herdier's attention!" Ash ordered, jerking his head toward his companion. Pikachu leapt off his trainer's shoulder and shocked the Herdier's back end with precision, careful not to hurt the woman, but enough to draw her Pokémon's scrutiny. The Herdier whipped his head toward the Electric-type and snarled before leaping toward it. Pikachu stepped back, cheeks sparking, preparing to dodge, but Herdier stopped mid-air and hung in suspension for a moment before being thrown against the wall. Silver and his Alakazam had caught up.

Ash sprung forward toward the woman and knelt at her side. She was clutching at her shoulder, which her Herdier had managed to tear into, but her neck was safe, and her breathing, though jagged and uneven from shock, was not gory or gurgled. He realized with a jolt when he looked at her pained, pale eyes that he had seen them before, although he strained to remember where or how.

She seemed to recognize him, too, as she gasped out the name, "Ash. Ash Ketchum."

"Ash?" He blinked rapidly. "Wait, how do you know me?"

"You're Trip's friend," she said, and finally, Ash made the connection. This was Trip's mother; they had never met, but he knew her, because the eyes of the mother and son were the same.

While Ash sat on this revelation, he failed to notice that Herdier had staggered to his feet and was preparing to launch at him. Pikachu tried to alert him, but his saving grace was a shovel to Herdier's face that knocked it out-cold. Ash's head lurched up to see James' standing over the canine, his hands quivering slightly as he held the garden tool in his hand.

"Arceus," James' swore, still taking in the scene. Meowth shuffled forward and peered cautiously at the fallen creature.

"Geez!" He shook his head. "Look at 'dis ting, practically foamin' at the mouth And people wonder why I don't trust dogs."

"It's infected," Silver remarked, and Ash looked at him with surprise, but quickly realized he had to be right: While Herdier wasn't showing any of the physical signs yet, his aggression spoke of a darker, underlying issue. Ash slowly, mechanically, turned his eyes back toward Emily, who was still clutching at the bite wound on her shoulder. Blood from a similar injury on her arm was dripping down her wrist.

"We have to take her to the hospital," he insisted. "James, can you lend me a phone or something? I gotta call an ambulance."

_**July 6th, 2009. Afternoon. Opelucid City.**_

"Maybe I can modify the design to include space for multiple Joltik instead of just one, therefore decreasing production time." Clemont briefly pulled off his glasses and tiredly rubbed his eyes. "I don't know. I don't know."

He, among others, sat on one of sofas in Iris's office, where they had yet again gathered to address the latest issue looming above them. Neither Lance nor Adalet had returned from the faraway prison yet, and Wallace was still in Driftveil City, but Paul sat in with them, as did Cynthia.

"That would help," Leaf said carefully. "We do need to get them into some kind of safe kennel, considering we've already had an accident. How's Bill?"

"He's taking the injury with good humor," Gary offered.

"I know a lot about electricity, so I could put in some electric-absorbent pads that could—" Clemont started, but he was interrupted when a ringer went off in the middle of the conversation. Trip fumbled for his cell phone in his pocket, having forgotten to silence it earlier, and, embarrassed, excused himself to answer it. Georgia watched him with passive interest as he stepped out into the hallway then flicked her eyes back toward Clemont.

"Electric-absorbent pads would be good," Leaf remarked. "It'll help protect those who are working with the Pokémon, so we don't have another accident like this again."

"I can implement them for sure, then," Clemont said.

"What good is any of this doing?" Paul broke in bitterly. "We're investing into the research, and we're not getting anywhere."

"Paul, kindly shut up," Leaf said with exasperation.

"I _do_ have a point," Paul persisted.

"What would you suggest, then? Do we just stop and let the virus execute its destruction?" Leaf demanded.

"No," Paul retorted, "but we need something else. Most of us are just sitting here, waiting, hoping, that there will be a breakthrough that's not coming anytime soon. I don't mean that as an insult to the work Gary and the others are doing. It's just a fact that these things take time."

"I would agree with that," Iris jumped in.

Leaf pursed her lips.

"Well, Lance and Adalet have clinched an agreement from Butch and Cassidy that will take us to the Unova base," she said. "That ought to take us somewhere."

The door opened, and Trip stiffly walked back inside. His rejoining normally would not have drawn much, if any, attention, but Ritchie noticed with alarm that his friend's face had turned chalky and colorless.

"Trip, is something wrong?" Ritchie asked worriedly.

"I'm sorry, I..." Trip shook his head. "I-I have to go. My mother, she was attacked by her Herdier, and she's in the Nuvema hospital."

"Oh, Arceus, Trip," Iris said with a sharp intake of breath. Her companions seemed similarly concerned; Georgia had fisted one of her hands and straightened up.

"You'll never believe who called to tell me this, though," Trip went on, regathering himself.

"Who?" Georgia inquired.

"Our good friend Ash Ketchum," Trip answered. "He's with, as we suspected, Silver. They were in Nuvema because that's apparently where those former Team Rocket members, Jessie and James, plus their Meowth, live."

Silence followed as the group processed this information. Serena pressed her hands to her heart, swelling with relief, and let out a long sigh. Misty felt a similar relief, but it was quickly incinerated by a fiery, internal anger that burned in her chest. The eyes of several others, however, darted toward Leaf, who was staring at Trip blankly, in wait of her reaction.

"Are you fucking _kidding_ me?" Leaf finally broke out, dipping her face into her hands as she growled. She threw her head up again before she ordered, "Get in the car. We're going to Nuvema Town."

_**July 6th, 2009. Evening. Nuvema Town.**_

"_Do you want to know why I left seven years ago?_"

Ash felt numb, though he knew he should have been angry when, hours later while sitting in the Nuvema hospital, Silver finally answered the question of his disappearance and revealed the true injustice that smeared his second name and forced him to take yet another. Silver had helped them, but thanks to a betrayal that painted _him_ as the traitor, he had only earned their contempt in return. Ash knew he was right when Silver said the fourteen others had spent the past seven years silently disapproving of the silver-eyed thief, and being ignorant to the cause made Ash feel slighted himself.

Pikachu occupied an empty seat beside his trainer, and he had spent all the time there watching Ash's distraught expression with concern. James and Meowth, meanwhile, sat on two chairs across from the brothers. They weren't entirely clued into the morose revelation taking place, but they knew it involved them.

The strained silence stuck with the waiting quartet for a while, interrupted only by a call of "James?" James's head sprung up, and he saw Jessie heading down the hallway toward them with their son resting his sleeping head on her shoulder.

"Ah, Jessie?" He scrambled to his feet.

"Is it true that woman's Herdier is infected?" Jessie asked tersely when she met them. "That's what I heard."

"Dat's what we tink," Meowth clarified. A low growl emerged from the back of Jessie's throat.

"We spent all these years living next to one of the twerp's mothers, and we didn't even know it," she grumbled, shaking his head. She then looked directly at Ash. "This is why we want nothing to do with you. Less than twenty minutes after you arrive, you already cause trouble for us."

"Sorry," Ash murmured. "Well, I won't cause trouble for you anymore."

"Thank you." Jessie turned swiftly on her heel, indicating James and Meowth should follow.

Before they could get away, Ash straightened his head up and asked, "What's his name?"

Jessie stopped and threw a cautious glance over her shoulder.

"Jayce," she said. "Not that it should matter to you."

"Right. Well... good luck?"

Good luck. It was the best, and only, thing he could offer at that point. Good luck—I hope you stay safe from a deadly virus that knocked on the door of your next-door neighbor. Good luck—I hope no former members of Team Rocket ever come after you. Good luck—I hope the G-Men never find you.

Jessie nodded to him and continued on her way with her husband and Meowth in tow. When they were out of earshot, Silver looked at Ash with mild surprise and asked, "You're letting them go?"

"I could never ask them to risk helping the G-Men, especially because they have a kid, you know?" He paused and then carefully turned his head back toward his brother, asking, "What are you gonna do now? You came all this way just to go to 48 Vitam Dr."

Silver pursed his lips.

"I don't know yet," he said. "I might stick around long enough just to see how this unfolds."

Ash paused to decipher the "this." Did he mean the situation with Herdier and Emily McGonnigal—a short-term stay? Or did he mean the rest of this dark summer story, which to Ash stretched endlessly before him? He didn't have much time to contemplate the answer, as he noticed Jessie, James, and Meowth shuffling quickly back down the hallway toward them. Ash knitted his eyebrows in confusion.

"Hey," he said, rising to his feet and stopping them. "What's the matter?"

Jessie's lips writhed into a snarl, prepared to tell him, desperately so, to get out of the way, but her words never came as an angry flurry of red stole Ash from her.

"You have some nerve, Ash Ketchum," Misty spat, grabbing the collar of his shirt; Ash, his eyes wide, instinctively stepped back, but Misty followed his footwork, until she had him backed a couple feet further down the hallway. "Disappearing in the middle of the night, never contacting us, and showing up days later on the other side of the region? You're lucky I love you."

"Wha-What?" Ash stammered. He expected Misty to backpedal, but she never did, and she never could, because the chance was lost with the arrival of other company.

"You are lucky," Leaf remarked, coming to stand behind Misty. "She called sole dibs on the right to strangle you, and she could conceive punishments way worse than anything I could possibly hand down." She stopped, her breath catching, when she noticed Silver seated casually on a nearby chair. He rose up, and the trio of former Rockets pathetically tried to hide behind him. Leaf only didn't regard them because she was too focused on the silver-eyed man—he was now a man—standing before her.

"Hello, Leaf," he greeted tacitly. Others—Iris, Cilan, Ritchie, Paul, Serena, and more—congealed in the hallway and, like Leaf, stopped with a breath when they saw him there. They knew from Trip's second-hand information that Silver was with Ash again, but seeing him made the theory real.

"Wow, long-time, no-see, huh?" Leaf said with a breathy laugh. "Where've you been hiding all this time? Decided to finally come back?"

Her response incited the anger Ash was overdue to feel. He managed to get Misty to drop her hands off him as he went straight toward Leaf, shockingly ready for confrontation.

"Decided to come back?" he began heatedly. "You're the reason he left in the first place!"

Leaf drew back in surprise. Of course she had seen Ash upset in the lifetime she had known him, but it was rare to see him angry, and worse, she could not remember an instance that anger was ever directed _at her_.

"What do you mean?" Leaf demanded after recovering.

"You promised Silver not to bring the G-Men into what we were doing, and you did, from the very beginning," Ash answered sharply. "You outright lied to him when you made that promise. You never intended to keep it, did you? And so when Silver let out Jessie and James and Meowth, _for me, because it was the right thing to do_, he had to leave knowing it would ruin his reputation with all of us and put him at the risk of continuing on with no protection against Team Rocket members who'd want to kill him for helping us, because you had ruined the good faith that the G-Men _could_ protect him."

Leaf felt her chest tighten. Gary folded his arms and shook his head. It disappointed him, but it looked like the consequences of the disaster from seven years ago were finally going to catch up with his girlfriend. Serena and Clemont and Bonnie exchanged confused but shocked glances; they could not hope to understand what was happening, but they knew Ash was furious, and that could mean nothing good.

"Wait, Leaf." Ritchie's eyes darted between both her and Silver. "What does he mean he says you broke the promise? When we called for Lance's help on the train? That was all of us, not you—to save you."

"No," Leaf said darkly, knowing she could no longer deny it. "I contacted Lance while we were on our way to Olivine City. I knew it would break the promise we made, but I did it because I thought it would be the best for all of us."

"At the cost of throwing Silver under our bus!" Ash exclaimed in exasperation.

Silver appended with a sneer, "You only did it because you wanted to stay in Lance's favor so you could become Champion seven years later."

"I didn't know about the Champion thing then!" Leaf cried in frustration. "I—" Her words died there. She saw no reason to defend herself from that point on. Leaf had drawn the disrespect of her friends and colleagues before, often unfairly, but this was the first time she knew she had undoubtedly earned it.

In the middle of the following silence, Paul flicked his disapproving gaze from Leaf toward those who stood cowering behind Silver.

"You know, we can see you," he gruffly. "There's no sense in hiding."

The trio of former Rockets tensed up in alarm, but eventually shuffled out from behind Silver, and with them in full view came the second surprise of the evening: the child that Jessie held in her arms. Iris noticed herself drawing in a shaky breath.

"I don't have time for this," Trip said tiredly, stepping forward. "Where's my mother?"

"... She's in that room right there." Ash flicked his head toward the door, and Trip went in. Deciding he was done fighting, Ash moved back toward his seat and invited Pikachu onto his lap. He kept his gaze averted from all those who stood in that hallway, with no one knowing what to say.

_**July 6th, 2009. Evening. Opelucid City.**_

"So they're going to find the Unova base?" May asked as she, dressed in a pair of leggings one of Drew's shirts and holding onto a mug full of ice cream, snuggled up beside her boyfriend on their bed as he scrolled through the limited options of movies they could watch together on his laptop.

"Apparently," Drew said with a disinterested shrug.

"Do you think we could get in on that?" she asked.

"Why?"

"It only seems right," May said, as if it were obvious. "It would be picking up where we left off, you know? Maybe it would give us some kind of... closure, I guess."

"I don't think anything, except the truth, is ever going to give us closure," Drew replied. "I'm not sure Leaf would be interested in letting us tag along anyway."

"Why not just ask?"

"I'm not really in a position to ask Leaf for favors," Drew mumbled bitterly. "She has me wrapped around her finger."

"Well, maybe I'll ask then if you're not going to," May remarked. "_I_ want to go. Leaf isn't completely unreasonable, you know. I know you two don't get along sometimes, but she is nice to me."

"Everyone's nice to you, except Harley," Drew said dryly. "I'm just mad that she managed to get this recommendation and Contesta's insistence to follow the G-Men's orders over my head. With this virus spreading, something's going to go wrong on the day of the contest. I can feel it."

"I know it's worrying, but it just means we're going to have to take more precautions," May offered hopefully. Drew wasn't willing to entertain her optimism, however.

"Who even told her?" he muttered. "It would've been better for everyone if I had managed to shut it down before she or Contesta could stop me."

"Told her what?" May blinked.

"That I was planning to shut down the CIU," Drew clarified. May looked at him strangely, and her lips suddenly parted with surprise and anxiety.

"Drew..." she said. "I told Leaf."

He stared.

"What?" he finally asked.

"I thought it was obvious," May admitted. "Or, I thought she would have told you."

"She just said that she 'had a feeling' I was going to close down the CIU, and that's why she talked to me," Drew explained. "I didn't believe her, but..." He suddenly realized it_ was_ quite obvious; May was the only person who knew of his plans to let the CIU fold that morning. The news had obviously spread to the rest of the staff, given Dawn's shared concerns, but May was the first to know.

"She was probably trying to protect me," May said with embarrassment, lowering her head. "She probably thought you would get mad at me."

"Well, yeah, I'm kind of mad," Drew said, irritated. "Why would you do that?"

"Because—" She stopped short and appeared mortified; the answer, she knew, would upset Drew further, but he managed to guess at the truth. His stomach twisted. She was already playing the game.

"May... Are you seriously considering becoming the Hoenn Champion?" he asked slowly, carefully. May hesitated.

"I don't think I can seriously consider something that hasn't been officially offered to me," she said.

"May, the only reason it hasn't been officially offered to you is because Wallace is still testing the waters," Drew pointed out. "If he thinks _you're_ thinking about, then he'll keep pursuing."

"Okay," was all May said.

"Okay... ?" Drew questioned her.

"What do you want me to say, Drew?" May sighed in exasperation.

"They only way you can make it clear you're not interested is if you shut down the possibility," Drew went on.

"What if I don't want to shut down the possibility?" May threw back, and Drew sucked in his breath. She then demanded in ire, "What? You don't think I could do it? I thought we got over you thinking I wasn't a capable trainer when we were pre-teens."

"That's not what I'm saying," Drew amended.

"Then what are you saying?" May asked with a huff. "Don't make decisions for me. If you want to talk it over with me, then let's talk it over. But don't make the decision for me."

"Fine, then let's talk about it," Drew said tersely.

"I don't want to talk about it right now," she broke out in her anger, almost immaturely so. She paused and sighed. "Sorry." She rose from the bed, ice cream in hand. "I'm going to put this down the drain. I'm not hungry right now. You can pick whatever movie you want to watch."

_**July 6th, 2009. Evening. Nuvema Town.**_

The Nuvema Town hospital, unlike the one in Opelucid City, did not have a large, separate waiting room with a television set to distract them from the tension that permeated the room. There was only a line of several chairs (not even enough for all of them to sit) outside each hospital room, and so they were trapped in an inescapable silence that grew more unbearable with each passing minute.

Ritchie glanced over his shoulder, into the room where Emily lay and where Trip sat with her; he was speaking quietly to her, words that no one but her could hear, and Ritchie, feeling ill, snapped his head forward again.

"This is the worst," he mumbled miserly.

"You don't have to tell me twice," Georgia remarked.

"Trip and his mom are pretty close," Ritchie went on anyway. "They have been ever since..." He trailed off, hesitant to answer, though nearly everyone, Georgia included, knew exactly what he meant to say. Ritchie continued, "Anyway, he looks out for her a lot."

Trip emerged from the hospital room for the first time since he had gone in. His companions watched him with apprehension as his exhausted, gray eyes turned toward Gary, who straightened up in response.

"Gary, please tell me there's something," he appealed to the researcher. "Please tell me you've found something that can help her."

Gary closed his eyes, not wanting to answer.

"Trip..."

"You know she and Herdier going to test positive," Trip pressed.

"Yeah," Gary mumbled.

"Gary?" Trip was unwilling to let the matter drop until he heard the answer, even if he already knew what it was.

"There's nothing yet," Gary finally said. "I'm sorry. I promise, we're doing everything. This is not a death nail. There's time, and we're still looking."

This response only served to further Trip's frustration.

"You haven't made an inch of progress!" he broke out angrily. "And not a single person has recovered. Not a single person. We said we had time with Karina, and she burned out quickly because of her failing health. My mother isn't exactly the image of great health, either."

Iris sighed and stood up, slinging her weight to her left hip.

"Trip is right," she said. "If we can't find the cure ourselves, we'll have to go to the people who have made progress."

"SAMPLe disappeared, Iris," Leaf spoke up in her shame, "and they weren't exactly thrilled to share their research with us."

"I think we're way beyond nicely asking them for their research," Iris said plainly. "This is my move: We have people who can take us to the Unova base, so let's do it. Let's find Team Plasma, and let's take whatever they have in terms of treatment. They had something. We don't have anything."

"Do they really have anything, though?" Paul asked doubtfully; he remembered the pins.

"They're the best chance we have at this point," Iris persisted.

"When do you want to do this?" Cilan inquired of his wife.

Iris thought of it for only a moment before answering, "Tomorrow."

Leaf nearly laughed, bitterly so, at the seeming impossibility of the notion.

"Iris, there's no way we can organize the manpower to take on whatever might be in that Unova base," she protested.

"Of course we do," Iris stubbornly insisted. "There's all of us—" She gestured toward all those who were standing there, including Clemont, Bonnie, and Serena. "—and there's a handful more back in Opelucid City."

"You mean Drew and May and the others?" Ritchie asked.

"We took on a Team Rocket base when we were teenagers," Iris affirmed. "The fourteen, fifteen—" She stopped and flicked her eyes toward Silver, who turned his head suspiciously. "—sixteen of us started this seven years ago. Let's finish it."

Serena blinked and furrowed her eyebrows at the count of "sixteen." The story, as she had been told, comprised fourteen trainers. Silver was obviously one of the two extras; the other, if Serena's theory was correct, was Leaf, which would mean three Champions grew out the mysterious story that took place seven years earlier.

"I don't know if you remember, but when we did it seven years ago, it didn't go as planned," Leaf reminded.

"No, it didn't," Cilan agreed, stepping more fully into the conversation, "but it's been seven years, and I think our group comprises trainers every bit as skilled as any gym leader or Elite Four member."

"Exactly," Iris said.

Leaf bit her lip, considering this. She noticed Ash's wary gaze in the corner, and this, for some reason, was enough.

"Fine," Leaf gave in. "We'll do it." She turned toward Jessie, James, and Meowth. "Do you want to help?"

Jessie pursed her lips and drew her child into herself. Her eyes were bitter, but they were knowing.

"Well," she began with a click of her tongue, "seeing as you know we're here, I don't think we have a choice at this point."

_**July 6th, 2009. Evening. Opelucid City.**_

Max was showered and prepared to head off to bed when he heard a couple unexpected knocks at his door. He frowned ruefully in the direction of the sound but nevertheless rose up and went to the front room of his apartment to answer the door. His eyes widened in surprise upon seeing his visitor.

"Drew?" He blinked.

"Hey," Drew greeted flatly. "Sorry to drop in without warning."

"What's going on?" Max asked, ushering him inside and closing the door. "Where's May?" Drew turned on his heel to face him.

"She's home," he said. "We had a fight, and she thinks I'm running errands, which I am, but..." He let out a frustrated breath and rubbed his temples. "May knows Wallace is after her."

"She does?" Max straightened up. "Did he tell her something?"

"No, she just... knew, the same way we do."

"What does she think about it?" Max asked, sitting down at his small dining table and inviting Drew to do the same.

"I don't really know. I'm not sure she does either." He paused before he added, "That's not why I'm here." Max craned an eyebrow but said nothing. Drew reached into his pocket, searching for something, and finally pulled it out, laying it on the table: a black, velvet box. Max stared at it silently for a long while.

"Please tell me that's not what I think it is," he eventually groaned.

"I've been planning on proposing to May for a couple weeks now," Drew said, proceeding anyway. "I had intended to wait until we were done with the CIU, and when it looked like it was going to fold, I bought the ring as... not as a consolation prize, but as something that would ameliorate the disappointment for both of us. Obviously, the CIU's continuing on, which may or may not be a mistake, but anyway, I still planned to go ahead and propose to her on Friday, July 10th, because it was the anniversary of us meeting."

"And now... you've changed your mind about marrying her because she might decide to become Champion?" Max was noticeably annoyed by the notion. Drew winced; it sounded awful when worded that way.

"No, I just..." Drew began with hesitation. "There's a lot we both have to think about right now, and since we live together, I don't want her to find it by accident."

Max pressed his lips into a hard line.

"Fine. I'll hang onto it." Max snatched the box off the table. "But I hope you realize something: May would, in a heartbeat, choose not to be Champion if you honestly asked her to decline the position, because she loves you that much. She would do anything you asked her to do—but only because she expects that if she asked you of anything, you would do the same for her... and that includes supporting her if she becomes Champion."

_**July 6th, 2009, Evening. Nuvema Town.**_

Eventually, some of the hospital visitors decided to split away from the larger group in want of food. Iris and Cilan were a couple of the first, and when they escaped the earshot of the others, Cilan turned to her and remarked, "That was really bold, Iris. You making that call." He meant it as a compliment, but she didn't receive it as one, though she didn't take it for an insult either.

"Trip's a friend," she said simply. "I'm so tired of seeing people I love suffer. I'm so tired of knowing there are Pokémon, and people, out there suffering. I want to put an end to it."

They made it to the cafeteria, where Cilan silently balked at the mediocre menu. Iris was too hungry to care much, and she went ahead and ordered some type of berry salad. Cilan held off, deciding it was better to eat an exceptionally late dinner whenever they decided to head back to Opelucid City.

They were not the only ones in the cafeteria, however. Bonnie noticed the couple as she drank from her cup of juice, and she turned and poked Serena in the side. Serena looked in the direction where Bonnie pointed, and Clemont, noticing the gesture, did as well. Serena abandoned her food to approach the two Unovans as they sat at their table.

"Iris? Cilan?" she inquired, gaining their attention.

"Hello, Serena," Cilan greeted. "What's the matter?

She wrung her hands together nervously for a moment.

"Can you tell me—tell us—what's going on?" she finally asked.

"Well..." Cilan started with hesitation.

"I don't mean the immediate situation," Serena clarified. "I mean the context. I don't mean to sound selfish or nosy, but I'm so frustrated by being left out of the circle. I want to know what happened seven years ago." Iris and Cilan's expressions didn't change at the bold request. Rather, they exchanged quick glances, and she nodded toward him before looking back at Serena.

"That's understandable," Iris said. "I know what it's like to feel left out."

Serena looked relieved and she threw her head back toward Clemont and Bonnie, indicating they should join them.

"Come, let's sit," Cilan kindly invited them. "It's a long story. How much do you know?"

"The interview," Clemont answered shortly, and Cilan nodded. They were all surprised, however, when Serena added onto that with a few extra brave assertions of her own.

"I know there were more than fourteen," she said. "Leaf was there, too, and so was Ash's brother. I don't mean this in an offensive of disrespectful way, but I also have the sense that the Champion titles for you, Iris, and Paul and Leaf were planned."

"You're right on that." Iris didn't deny it, and it elicited surprised looks from all except Serena. "You're right about all of those things."

"So..." Serena trailed off and looked at them expectantly, now only waiting for the story she had wanted to hear for so long. Iris flicked her gaze to her husband, handing the responsibility off to him.

Cilan paused long enough to consider where he should begin. He needed to reach into himself, pay a revisitation to the memories that had already started to fade. It had all happened so long ago, and the story had not ended since it began with Ash on December 15th, 2001, the night before they—himself, Iris, and Ash when they still traveled together, in a time before they became tied up in an inescapable conspiracy, in a time before he and Iris were ever in love—planned to head their separate ways for the holidays.

He took in a deep breath and began to speak.

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**End of Part III: The Revisitation**

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_Apologies for the delay._

_Part IV to come in two weeks._


	24. XXIII: In Which Lance's Shadow Recedes

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**Part IV: The Rising**

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Chapter XXIII: In Which Lance's Shadow Recedes

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_**May 11th, 2003. Morning. Cerulean City.**_

Ritchie knew this drill: If Trip's mother called, he needed to leave. Trip had never openly stated this rule—despite his blunt nature, he was hesitant to say anything that might alienate Ritchie, who was, though he wouldn't admit it, his closest friend—but Ritchie, perceptive as he was to people's feelings (Trip's, especially), had learned it himself in the month or so since their journey through Kanto had begun. So, when Trip's cell phone ringer went off that morning and Trip answered it with "Mom?", Ritchie quickly finished dressing himself and slipped away to the Pokémon Center cafeteria.

He returned twenty or so minutes later with extra toast and jam for Trip (he had a simple taste), but was surprised to find that Trip was sitting cross-legged on his bed and still on the phone. Ritchie had honestly believed the conversation would have ended before he returned.

"Mom—" Trip broke in impatiently. "Mom, just—Mom, listen. Just send me the papers, okay? I'll fill them out myself and then send them back to you. All you have to do is sign it."

Ritchie approached him cautiously and slid the toast and jam toward Trip on his nightstand. Ritchie then turned to leave, but Trip quickly waved his hand, indicating not to bother.

"Mom, I have to go," he said. "... I love you, too. Think seriously about what I said, okay?"

Trip ended the call with a frustrated sigh, and Ritchie automatically asked, "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah. Everything's fine," Trip mumbled in a tone that said nothing was. Ritchie wouldn't have expected to Trip to admit there was trouble, but he still frowned.

"I brought you breakfast," Ritchie offered.

"I appreciate the thought, but I'm not hungry." Trip tossed his phone onto the sheets and ran his fingers through his hair.

"In that case, are you ready to go to the Cerulean Gym?" Ritchie asked. He hesitated before adding, "... A battle might get your mind off of things."

"Mhm. I'm ready." Trip rose to his feet and snatched his backpack up, drawing it around his shoulders.

* * *

"Gee, Misty, you guys have really fixed this place up," Ritchie marveled as he cast his gaze about the entrance of the Cerulean City Gym. He had seen the pictures of destruction: the ashen remains of the roof scattered across the tile, the furniture that had collapsed in from falling debris, and the faded yellow paint burned and peeling off the walls.

Now, the place was more beautiful than he had remembered it. The old floors had been stripped and replaced with polished ultramarine tiles; what couldn't be refurbished had been substituted with brand-new equipment and then some; the walls had been rebuilt and repainted white, save a picturesque mural that stretched at least twenty feet long and grew into the corner.

Misty grinned at the compliment.

"Isn't it great?" she said. "That fire was a blessing in disguise in a way. The gym was in need of repairs, and the insurance money after the attack was more than enough to restore the building."

"It is nice," Trip mused. "I don't know what it looked like before."

"They used to not have that mural," Ritchie said, pointing. The mural depicted a multitude of Water-type Pokémon, both endemic and foreign to the Kanto region, swimming about a coral reef beneath the sea.

"Yup!" Misty perked up, looking toward it. "That's new. We commissioned Tracey for it."

"Oh, hey, that's pretty cool, actually," Ritchie commended. "How are he and Daisy doing?"

Misty groaned, then laughed.

"Don't remind me," she said.

"I'll take that as a 'really well,' then," Ritchie chuckled.

"I am happy for them. I still haven't adjusted to the idea, though," Misty said with a weak smile. "Anyway, who am I battling first? I can take you both on in one day—I have enough Pokémon for two matches. We can have one now and then one after lunch."

Trip and Ritchie exchanged quick glances. Ritchie nodded to him, giving him the choice, and Trip looked back toward Misty.

"I suppose I'll go first," he said detachedly. Misty raised an eyebrow, and Ritchie winced.

"Great. I'll show you the battlefield," Misty offered, gesturing forward. She watched Trip brushed past her, and when he was out of earshot, she turned to Ritchie and asked in a low voice, "Is something up with Trip? He seems a little... off."

"There's some trouble with his mom," Ritchie answered truthfully.

"Again?"

"He's still trying to get her to file for divorce," he elaborated.

"Geez..." Misty fell back with a frown. "Has he been talking to you about it?"

"No, no," Ritchie corrected with a shake of his head. He looked forward, toward Trip, who was observing the place with objective eyes, but his shrunken shoulders spoke to his dolor. Ritchie felt his chest swell with a deep sympathy, and he sighed, adding, "Trip never talks to me about this kind of thing."

_**July 7th, 2009. Early Morning. Nuvema Town.**_

Georgia was half-asleep, her face hanging in her hand, when the pungent aroma of coffee drew her out of her torpor. She raised her eyes up and saw Ritchie standing before her, his arm outstretched toward her with a cup of the scented drink in hand. She straightened up and warily accepted his offering.

"Thanks..." she mumbled, bringing the cup close to her chest. Her fingers warmed comfortably at the touch.

"I didn't know what you liked, so I just got regular with some half-and-half," Ritchie said.

"That's fine. Thank you," Georgia dismissed. She took her first drink; it was still bitter and grainy, but she wasn't complaining. "You know, you didn't have to stay here all night."

"I'm his best friend. I had to stay here," Ritchie replied plainly. "I could just as easily say you didn't have to stay here all night."

"I'm his ride. I'm both of your rides. I actually, legitimately do have to stay here." She stretched her head back for a moment. "Leaf texted me about ten minutes ago."

"Saying what?" Ritchie asked.

"We're meeting together at about noon," Georgia answered.

"So... we need to go," Ritchie mused. Georgia nodded and craned her neck to look into the hospital room. Trip was still at his mother's bedside, but his head had fallen into the crook of his arm on the sheets. Emily was asleep herself, peacefully so—for now.

"I'll wake him up," Georgia said quietly, standing and heading inside before Ritchie could interject anything. She gently touched Trip's shoulder, and he, being a light sleeper, immediately woke up. His head jolted upward and he glanced blearily at the woman behind him.

"Hey," she began in just above a whisper. Her hand remained on his back, though it had slid down toward his spine. "If we wanna make it back in time, we gotta get a move on."

"Right." Georgia's hand fell off him as he slowly, sorely, stood up. His eyes didn't stray from his mother long, and Georgia noticed this.

"You don't have to come," she offered.

"Mm?" He looked at her blankly.

"You can stay here," she told him. "I'll come back for you when you're ready. You know, assuming _I_ come back alive from wherever this old Team Rocket base is."

Trip let out a short, tired laugh at her morbid humor.

"No, I want to come. I want to find that cure," he said, rising to his feet. He glanced down at Emily again, and Georgia could see the change in his eyes—the lowering of his eyelids, of his defenses. "She and I have been through a lot together, and... well, anyway, I'm sure you've heard it before."

"I only know what was reported," Georgia said plainly. "You haven't told me anything, and neither have your other friends."

"I haven't told anyone much," Trip mumbled as he gathered together a few of his items to take back with him. Georgia folded her arms and fell back.

"Well, you know, if you ever want to talk, I can't promise I won't let an ill-humored comment slip, but I'll listen," she offered. Trip's lips twitched into a small smile, and he cast her a look over his shoulder; their gazes connected.

"I might take you up on that sometime," he said.

Ritchie had discreetly watched this exchange unfold from the hallway, and he perked up with surprise upon this last line. He had spent some time with both Georgia and Trip in the preceding days, and he had suspected something might be brewing between them, but it was then that he saw it clearer than ever before: The way Trip looked at Georgia was similar, though not quite the same, to the way he looked at his own mother, and it was because he loved both.

_**July 7th, 2009. Morning. Location Unknown.**_

Colress briefly pulled his glasses off his face and cleaned them with a cloth he kept in his breastpocket as he strode toward the imposing double doors before. Pushing his way inside, he was greeted with the sounds and screeches of a variety batch of Pokémon, a batch that was ever-dwindling with the passage of time. With the G-Men competitively collecting the others samples now, Colress realized they might soon have to resort to infecting their own again in order to carry on with their research.

The place was in consternation, with other researchers and assistants running around to set new stations up or check up on old ones. The past few days, in particular, had been hectic, but he imagined it would begin to settle again soon.

"What's the update?" Colress asked Annie when he met her.

Annie huffed and said, "We lost another one this morning."

"Which one?"

"The Patrat," she answered. "It belonged to some trainer named Brienda."

Colress frowned and shook his head.

"Well, we push onward," he said, gazing out at the mess—a mess of his own creation—before him.

_**July 7th, 2009. Morning. Opelucid City.**_

Ash awoke to the discovery—and the surprise—that Silver was still with him. He had returned with the group to Opelucid City the previous night and slept where Ritchie, who had stayed in Nuvema Town with Trip, normally resided during the evening, but Ash had half-expected him to be gone the next morning. Instead, he sat upright on Ritchie's bed, flicking lazily through one of the infamous copies of Coordinators Weekly's story of the year.

Ash lied flat on his back for a while, beside his softly snoring Pikachu. Then, he broke the reverie with the question, "How long are you gonna be here?"

Silver didn't look up. He either had already realized Ash was awake or wasn't at all bothered by the change.

"I already told you," Silver said, turning another page, "I want to see how all this turns out."

This response frustrated Ash, because he still didn't know what that meant—how long "this" lasted. Still, he realized, if Silver was okay with sticking around, then he must have felt Leaf wasn't a threat. Ash was already starting to feel guilty about losing his temper with her yesterday (even if she arguably deserved it), but he decided maybe it was a good thing he did if it meant keeping Silver around longer, long enough to hopefully let the tide of opinions turn in his favor and convince him to stay more permanently.

"You should talk to Misty," Silver mumbled, and Ash, blinking, turned his head toward him.

"Huh? Oh, y-yeah," Ash agreed. He had intended to work things out with her yesterday, but given the situation, it was put on hold, and that made the task all the more daunting. Misty had said she loved him—the first time she had ever told him such—but she was also furious with him, and Misty's fire was one that could burn for days if the flames were not doused.

Ash rose from his bed, carefully as to not disturb Pikachu, and quickly dressed himself. He worked out a couple of the tangles in his hair with his fingers and cast one last glance at Silver, who was still reading the magazine with disinterest, before heading out of the room.

He knocked on Misty's door a couple times and waited. No response. He knocked a couple more times. Then came a terse, "Come in." Ash cautiously opened her door and slipped inside. Misty was at her mirror, a hair tie a couple bobby pins in her mouth as she pulled her hair back.

"Uh... good morning," he started.

"Good morning," Misty replied shortly once she had removed the hair tie from her lips.

"Are you still mad?" It was a stupid question, and Ash knew it the moment it left his mouth. Of course she was still mad. He already knew going into this that she would still be mad. Misty looked at him with incredulity. She undoubtedly thought it was a stupid question, too.

"Yes, Ash, I'm still mad."

"I'm sorry," Ash apologized. "I didn't wanna upset you."

Misty sucked in her breath and let some of her anger go in the exhale.

"I'm just..." she began, but she stopped and struggled for a moment, figuring out where she wanted to go with that statement. "You and I just had this conversation about being open and honest with each other. You leaving in the middle of the night with no indication of where you're going? It's concerning."

"I know," Ash said repentantly.

"I know you know," Misty huffed. "And I know you probably had to cater to Silver's game, whatever it was. That doesn't mean the whole thing still doesn't rub me the wrong way."

Ash watched her silently for a while, unsure of what to say or do or how to bring up what she'd said yesterday. Luckily, he didn't have to, because she ended up doing it on her own. Pressing her hands to her face, Misty continued, "I know I can't hold it to you, because the situation is complicated." She dropped her arms. "Still, I guess I'd like some kind of reassurance that we—whatever we are—is valuable enough to you that you're not just going to disappear from my life again. I don't just mean running off for a couple days, but going away for an entire year to a new region, or—I don't know. It's unfair to ask."

"What are you asking for?" Ash asked confusedly.

"Some commitment!" Misty broke out with a short, exasperated laugh. "We've been in this weird limbo between being friends and being more than friends for seven years, and I've been okay with it, because you've been traveling, and I've been working, and I know neither of us have been seeing anyone else—but I'm 23, and I want something more at this point."

"Like... getting married?" Ash naïvely suggested.

"W-What?" Misty erupted into red, and Ash grinned at the sight. "No, that's not—"

"—'Cause, we could get married, y'know," he went on cheekily. "I love you, too."

Misty's throat tightened, and Ash waited, watching her with bated breath. He felt heat began to crawl up the back of neck, too, upon the realization that, even though he had said it in a teasing manner, he had actually just proposed to Misty.

"I..." she began after a while, "I... think we can start smaller: being in a steady relationship—and being able to tell people we're in a steady relationship."

Ash let out a relieved breath and smiled again.

"All right," he agreed. "I could go for that."

He strode toward her, closing the several feet between them, and boldly grasped her face to kiss her. She welcomed the advance as her hands slid up his neck and found rest on the back of his head. She loved it best when Ash initiated, without her egging him on. It was validation; it was proof to back up his new declaration that he was in love with her, too.

When they eventually broke apart, Ash breathily managed, "The offer still stands."

"Shut up," Misty grumbled, hitting him on the side of his head.

* * *

Cilan's head was whirling with jagged, disjointed words and pieces of silent rehearsals as he moved down the hallway toward his office. It had been more than a week since had had last hosted class. Today would be the first session held since Karina's death, which he would undoubtedly need to address, especially with the knowledge that several of her classmates had attended the funeral.

To make matters worse, it would also be the first session since Iris had miscarried their daughter. He didn't plan to address that, but his students were socially conscious, and they certainly heard the news through one medium or another. Knowing this only made the task ahead of him more personally difficult.

Cilan was so caught up in his own musings that he failed to notice the figure approaching him from the opposite direction, until he called his name.

"Mr. Griffith," Gerard Poltiere started, and Cilan's breath hitched, "just the person I wanted to see."

Cilan stopped and briefly paused to collect himself.

"Good morning, sir," he began politely. "I... I am already aware the association will be looking into—"

"—I wanted to offer my condolences," Poltiere cut him off, and Cilan blinked in surprise.

"Excuse me?"

"It was a difficult time for you and your students last week, for reasons that don't need to be restated. I'm sorry," Poltiere went on. "I heard you canceled both of your previous sessions."

"I did," Cilan admitted. "I can assure you that I won't be canceling any more, sir."

"It's understandable," Poltiere said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I'm presuming you'll need to revoke my invitation to a question and answer session with your students next week in order to catch up on your syllabus?"

Cilan winced. It was embarrassing to cancel on the PCA President, of all people, but the Q&amp;A session was a matter of enrichment, not necessity, and his students were behind.

"It would have been an honor to have you, sir, but..."

"Don't worry yourself," Poltiere assured him. He paused and checked his wristwatch before adding, "I know you must be off. I imagine you have some things you need to get in order for class today."

"Yes, sir," Cilan said politely before scuttling off.

"Cilan." Cilan stopped again and, with wide eyes, glanced back at the president. It was a rarity for Poltiere to call someone informally by their first name; it only happened when he was angry, or when he was personal. Poltiere continued, "I truly am sorry. My wife has miscarried before, too."

The rigidity in Cilan's shoulders softened. It was then, when his inner tension had dissipated, that he opened himself up for revelation. He breathed out and briefly looked away before catching Poltiere's gaze again.

"I'm sorry to hear that, sir," he said more easily. "Thank you."

He and Poltiere parted, and Cilan took a detour to the men's washroom to regather his thoughts. As he splashed his face with cool water, he replayed the words of Poltiere in his mind. The advice Iris had given several nights earlier—"remember who you're married to"—had so suddenly made sense, and Cilan almost wanted to call her, tell her he loved her, and say that she was more brilliant than he had ever given her credit for, but he knew she wouldn't pick up the phone, so he settled on the resignation that he would need to her in person later, which ultimately, she would appreciate more.

He dried himself and continued toward his office, but was surprised to find it already open.

"Burgundy?" he inquired with surprise when he saw her sitting in his pull-out chair. He knew his conversation with Poltiere and delay in the bathroom had made him later to his office hours than usual, but this was still the first time Burgundy had arrived before him.

She didn't look up.

"Answer me another question honestly," she started. Cilan was at first confused by what she meant, but he soon realized she referring back to their conversation several days earlier in the hospital. She moved her gaze toward his and continued, "What that person—N—said... was it true?"

Cilan stared at her silently for a while. Then, he closed the door behind him and sighed.

"Iris, Paul, and Leaf were chosen to be Champions, and there _are_ systems in place to prevent them from ever losing their title," he said plainly. "The Pokérus is not one of them. I personally know all of them accepted with the intention of changing those systems."

Burgundy wrung her hands together and briefly looked away once again.

"Okay, I believe you," she said quietly, reassured.

"Thank you," Cilan replied at an equally reticent volume.

"How are you?" Burgundy went on after a moment. "Georgia said you and Iris were out of town for the weekend."

Cilan said and nodded, "We went to the Village of Dragons to bury Clove—" He stumbled suddenly, and Burgundy initially wasn't sure why, but she soon figured it out. "Sorry. I hadn't meant to say her name."

Clove—it was the name Iris and Cilan had bestowed upon their unborn daughter, Burgundy realized. Clove—it was, she knew, the flower bud of an evergreen tree that when dried, when dead, was used as a spice to enrich a wide variety of culinary dishes. Clove—it was a name so personal, so private, that he and Iris must have agreed not to share it, to reserve it for themselves, but he had, by accident, let it slip.

"I won't repeat it," Burgundy promised him.

Cilan said nothing for a moment. Then, he changed the subject.

"I spoke with Poltiere this morning," he informed her.

"... What did he say?" Burgundy asked.

"He won't be coming for the Q&amp;A session we had scheduled, because we need to catch up on the syllabus," Cilan elaborated. "He didn't mention the probe into the incident with Karina. I'm not sure if he was being polite or if it meant Ricard was blowing smoke, but either way..."

"Either way what?" Burgundy pressed when he trailed off.

Cilan sucked in his breath, carefully considering his next words.

"I am your designated supervisor," he started simply, "which means you must listen to what I say lest their be consequences from the board." Burgundy blinked and drew her head back, appearing wary. Cilan continued, "I do not make it a habit to tell you what to do, but I am quite serious when I say this: You are, under no circumstances, to accept fault for what happened to Karina in class. Should an inquiry be made, I will take full responsibility."

Burgundy let out a disbelieving breath.

"Cilan, I told you—"

"—Under no circumstances," Cilan repeated firmly.

"I'm going to get kicked out anyway," Burgundy argued back. "It would be a waste for you to get into trouble."

"And it would be a waste for the association to lose you," Cilan replied coolly, "which is why, I've also decided, should the board choose to expel you, I will resign from my teaching position and turn in my S-Class badge."

"_What?_" Burgundy choked out, her voice turning pitchy. "You can't do that! You've been in the association for years! You worked hard to get your final rank!"

"Exactly," Cilan conceded with a strange, foreign smile, "which is why it would make such a _powerful_ statement. Do you know how poorly it would reflect on the PCA if the husband of the Unova Champion resigned because he was disillusioned by the association's blatant institutional sexism?"

"Cilan..."

"Burgundy, I doubt any punishment inflicted upon me would amount to more than a slap on the wrist," Cilan assured her. "I don't mean to inflate my own ego, but I'm too valuable to them. The league controls the majority of the funding for the PCA, and Iris controls the league."

Burgundy looked at him with wide eyes, stunned.

"Funny thing," Cilan went on thoughtfully when she didn't reply, "I was wary of becoming romantically involved with Iris for many years because I was disenchanted with the league and believed it was a corrupt entity. Yet, at the same time, I believed working toward my S-Class within the PCA was a nobler pursuit." He stopped long enough to shake his head, as if with some understated disgust. "Both organizations are corrupt. But the league leadership consists of men and women fighting to change it. Here? There are active efforts to resist change. So which, truly, is the more noble pursuit? Becoming a Champion or becoming an S-Class?" He paused before adding, "I won't be among those who resist change."

"... I don't know what to say," Burgundy eventually replied, and she truly was at a loss. Cilan only let on another weak smile.

"Class is starting soon," he told her. "We should go." He rose up, and Burgundy hesitantly followed him.

"Cilan?" she said quickly, just as they were about to head out the door. When he looked back at her, she added, "Thank you."

Cilan readjusted the strap of his bookbag over his shoulder.

"Don't thank me," he said. "Thank Iris. It was her idea."

* * *

Iris had slept in. The night had been long and wearisome with the trip to Nuvema Town, and even after she had returned to Opelucid City, she had stayed up an extra hour or two with Cilan. He, unlike her, hadn't eaten, and he was in want of reassuring company; the day ahead would be burdensome to both of them. By the time she woke up, he had already left for class, and she was hungry herself.

When she made it to the kitchen, the first food item she reached for was one of the Ganlon berries that Cilan had set out in a wooden bowl for her easy access. Yet, much to her disgust, she discovered the fruit had darkened, its shriveled skin protecting a softening, rotting core. She took the entire bowl and dumped it out in the trash before sinking onto one of the stools with a sigh.

"Might I suggest a Liechi berry instead? It has a bitter aftertaste but is high in endorphins." Iris's head snapped up when she heard the familiar, dreamy voice drifting toward her. Caitlin had glided into the kitchen, having presumably been let into the gym by Agent Murray, or perhaps by being escorted in by Cynthia.

"My apologies," Caitlin went on with a distant smile. "I did not mean to surprise you."

"Caitlin," Iris regarded her, straightening up. "I didn't realize you were still in the city."

"I've been in the area for a while," Caitlin admitted.

"Mm..." Iris hummed, considering this. Caitlin inclined her head toward her.

"Cynthia told me there are plans to visit an old Team Rocket location today," she said. "Would you mind if I came with you?"

"Uh..." Iris blinked in surprise. "No, definitely not. The more help, the better. It'd be great if we had a strong trainer like you on our side."

"I don't think strength will matter much," Caitlin mused. "Thank you, though."

Iris appeared estranged by her remark, and she fell quiet for a while. Caitlin, however, seemed unbothered by the silence; in fact, it appeared as though she was waiting for Iris to say something. Her clouded blue eyes had snagged Iris's gaze, trying to pull the words out of her, and it wasn't long before she succeeded.

"... You knew, didn't you?" Iris asked quietly. "You knew I was going to miscarry."

Caitlin—whom Iris hadn't realized had leaned toward her—pulled back into an upright position once more.

"I had the sense," she said vaguely.

"How did you?" Iris pressed.

"I am attuned the world and to the people around me in ways others are not," Caitlin explained simply. "It's why Psychic-types are my preferred Pokémon to train. We understand each other well."

Iris said nothing in response to this. Her gaze fell again, and she pushed a loose strand of hair out of her face.

"My offer to speak with you, if needed, still stands," Caitlin continued.

"Are you a therapist?" Iris mumbled.

"It would help if I told you that, wouldn't it?" Caitlin smiled again. "Yes."

"Cilan has been suggesting I see a therapist for a while," Iris recalled.

"I can see you both at once," Caitlin informed her. "Consider talking it over with him."

"Maybe after all this is done." It was the first ground Iris had given to the idea. She had resisted Cilan's gentle suggestions for months by then, but death had worn her defenses down, and she knew she could no longer rely on Cilan solely to shoulder her when he needed one himself.

Caitlin nodded understandingly and said, "I'll see you at noon."

* * *

Jessie held her son close to her as she suspiciously watched Leaf remove, albeit a little clumsily, an entire bulletin board with a large map of Unova plastered to it from the wall. She then dragged the unwieldy board to the center table and laid it atop. Jessie examined it with a narrow gaze for a moment; red and white pushpins were scattered throughout the region, largely in the northern half. Clearly, some type of color-coding system was in place, but she didn't care to ask.

"Where is it?" Leaf asked quietly, seriously—tiredly—looking up at Jessie, James, and Meowth.

James looked at the map for only a moment before pointing to an open, circular clearing north of Nimbasa City but south of Opelucid, surrounded by man-made lakes that likened the clearing unto the shape of a Pokéball.

"There," James said.

"There?" Leaf raised an eyebrow.

"There," James repeated.

"You're kidding me, right?" Leaf half-laughed. "The very center of Unova?"

"The Entralink," Jessie clarified the technical term tersely. "It's a protected area for Pokémon, and it has the unmanned center for all of Unova's communications. No one ever goes there except when the Entralink is in need of repairs, making it a perfect place to build a hideout."

Leaf let out an exasperated breath but said, "Well, the clearing makes it accessible by plane, at least."

"Accessible by plane?" James inquired

"Wallace's wife, Winona, has agreed to pilot us there," Leaf explained. "She should be arriving shortly."

"You're throwing dis together awfully quick, don'cha tink?" Meowth remarked.

"Iris's call, not mine," Leaf said shortly. Jessie readjusted Jayce in her arms.

"If we're coming with you, who's going to take care of Jayce?" she asked.

"I can ask Agent Murray to look after him," Leaf suggested. When Jessie narrowed her gaze, Leaf glowered back at her and asked, "What?"

"Yes, I'm just tickled pink by the prospect of leaving my child with some random G-Men nitwit," Jessie scoffed.

"Nothing will happen to him," Leaf assured her with a roll of her eyes. "Agent Murray has his own daughter."

The door opened, and Leaf half-expected either Iris or Paul. Yet, she was instead met with a group: Chief Adalet and Lance had returned, and with them were the former Team Rocket members Butch and Cassidy. Leaf realized with a twist of her stomach that she had failed to inform them of the most recent developments.

"What the—" Cassidy's surprise soon turned to anger. "What are you doing here?"

"What are we doing here?" Jessie repeated the question with offense taken. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"Yes, what are they doing here?" Lance asked, his eyes locking upon Leaf's trio. Leaf sucked in her breath.

"... This is Jessie and James and Meowth," she said, gesturing toward them. "They are also former Team Rocket members who will be helping us today."

"Today?" Adalet raised an eyebrow.

"We're taking on the Unova Team Rocket base today. I've started planning our entry point before the entire group meets together at noon. Paul, Iris, and Cynthia should be joining us soon to help," Leaf explained.

"Who falls under this 'entire group' categorization?" Lance asked.

"Drew, May, Trip, Ash—oh yeah, by the way, Ash showed up again." Leaf paused and regathered herself before finishing, "The whole gamut." She looked pointedly at the former Rockets standing beside Adalet. "So, I hope Butch and Cassidy are ready."

"Uh—yeah, we're ready!" Butch said with a vigorous nod. Lance, visibly irritated, flicked his eyes toward him and Cassidy before looking back at Leaf.

"Adalet," he began flatly, "please remain outside with Butch and Cassidy for a few minutes while I speak alone with Leaf." He then held a hand out toward the three other Rockets. "And take those three with you."

"I am no longer obligated to take orders from you, Lance," Adalet said plainly.

"Adalet, get out," Leaf echoed Lance's sentiment less politely.

"I am, however, obligated to take orders from her," Adalet begrudgingly obliged. He gestured for Jessie and James and their Meowth to follow him, and he held the door open for the group of Rockets to step outside before loudly shutting it behind him.

Once they were gone, Lance turned to Leaf and asked, "Care to explain yourself?"

Leaf sighed and brought her left hand up to her temple, rubbing it.

"Look..." she began. "A lot of things happened while you and Adalet were gone."

"Obviously."

"Emily McGonnigal is infected. She was attacked by her Herdier," Leaf said, dropping her hand again. "Ash was the one to save her, and he was packaged up nicely with Silver, who's also apparently on the radar again, and those gang of Rockets."

"That tells me nothing," Lance said bluntly. "Why are you jumping into this so quickly, and why are you dragging people outside the G-Men into it?"

"Iris took compassion on Trip and wanted to go to the Unova base today with the hope of finding a treatment," Leaf explained. "There's no way we could have assembled a group of Elite trainers in one day, so she volunteered our posse."

"And why didn't you oppose?" Lance asked. "I thought this was the reason why Adalet was hired, because Iris didn't want to deal with the G-Men herself. Now we have two Rocket members too many."

"Well, Adalet wasn't here, and I'm not in a great position right now, Lance," Leaf answered frankly. "Ash is furious at me—everyone is—because Silver told them how I had screwed him over seven years ago, which is _true_. I deserve for them to be mad at me."

"Leaf, you realize this position requires you to make some unpopular decisions in order to do what's—" Lance started, but Leaf soon cut him off.

"—Oh, who cares if we've doubled up!" she broke out furiously. "Butch and Cassidy are here; we can't withdraw our offer at this point. And Jessie and James have a son, and I am _not_ business of breaking up families." She stopped again to calm herself down and continued at a more reasonable volume, "I have made unpopular decisions, and I'll stand by them. I'll probably continue to make some unpopular decisions, but not at the price I'm paying. If I did, I'd be you, and Arceus, I don't want to be you."

Lance stared at her blankly but said nothing.

"How's it working out, Lance? Not being Champion after you've destroyed everything else of value? You don't talk to your father, your relationship with Steven is still strained, Adalet and Cynthia hate you, and sometimes, I do too." Leaf was holding nothing back. "I've given you ten years of my life, and I've become Champion, and even now, I don't want to disappoint you. I might not be Champion for much longer, though, and I want to make sure that there's something of value left for me after this is over. I love Ash and the others; they're my friends. I'm not willing to lose them."

All this said, she fell to the sofa, cradling her her face in the palm of her hand. She slowly lifted her head again, however, and looked at the Unovan map before connecting her gaze with Lance's once more.

"Make the Rockets sweat if you want, but I'm not going to do anything to them," she concluded.

* * *

10:15 a.m. came silently and passed on slowly to 10:16 a.m., then to 10:17 a.m. The chatter that normally filled the classroom was gone, even though seventeen students—the entirety of the class roster, save one—were present and in their seats, waiting and watching their professor with anxious anticipation. Cilan had insisted to Burgundy that he would take care of the class for the day, so he had relegated her to a separate seat in the back to observe.

Cilan himself was at the front, his index and middle finger pressed tiredly to his temple as he stared distantly at some text, the nature of which Burgundy did not know, in front of him. She was constantly flicking her gaze between him and the clock, wondering if he was at all cognizant that the start time had passed and debating whether she should tell him, but when the hand hit 10:18 a.m., he looked up, and she and the rest of the students automatically straightened up.

"Good morning," he said tacitly, moving out from behind his desk and leaning back against it. None of his students echoed him, as some usually did.

"I'm presuming you all know what happened to one of your peers two weeks ago, so I need not repeat the details," Cilan continued. "Karina may have been only acquaintance to you—someone you might have waved at once or twice in the hallway, someone you might have been paired up with a few times in class—or she might have been a friend. Either way, I think we've all been affected by her loss in some manner."

Burgundy's gaze immediately flicked toward Phillip, who was slumped in his seat in the back.

"There are terrible things that happen in this world—terrible things that happen to good people—and we cannot hope to understand it," Cilan went on. "We find ourselves staking faith in impermanence—futures that fade, people that leave, situations that change, opportunities that slip away, lives that are cut far too short—things we were naïvely sure would be permanent, and when they are gone, we find ourselves confronting a crisis inside ourselves."

Cilan paused long enough to briefly run his fingers through his own hair.

"It's a scary world out there right now, and there isn't too much we can be sure about," he said seriously. "But there is one thing I am sure about, because for every time I have relied on it, I have never been let down, and that is love—between friends, between families, between trainers and Pokémon. Karina believed those relationships were important, that they meaningful, and that was why she was here and why she decided to pursue this field. I know you all believe those relationships are important, too, because you're all sitting here before me.

"Remember to shoulder each other and lift each other up. And remember to keep striving toward what is important and meaningful in our lives. I believe Karina would want that." Cilan let these words sink in for a moment, before reaching for this reading glasses. "Please turn to page 132 in Oak's text."

The shuffling of bags and papers followed, and Burgundy let go of the breath she didn't realize she was holding.

* * *

Gary leaned close to the kennel containing Buneary, close enough for his breath to spit a dot of fog against the clear wall. Buneary noticed him and pricked her shoulders in alarm, glaring at him with bitter contempt. This one seemed to hate Gary more than the others, and it intrigued him in twisted sort of way. When she launched against the container, Gary drew back and shook his head.

"This one looks sick."

Gary perked up in surprise and looked to see Silver standing over Purrloin's kennel, observing the feline with his chin in his hand.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Gary grumbled.

"What's the matter with it?" Silver asked.

"That's the big question." Gary slid his hands into the pockets of his coat as he approached, standing beside Silver. "This Purrloin belongs to a little girl that died a week and a half ago. The virus does eventually kill. The same will happen to this Purrloin if we don't find a treatment."

Silver pursed his lips thoughtfully and looked down at the Dark-type once more. She was lying down, curled in the corner with her tail wrapped around her frame and her eyes, oddly hued as they were, averted. When she noticed Silver's gaze, however, she lifted her head and bristled at him.

"It's because its trainer is dead," he decided. "It's depressed."

Gary frowned. He had heard this theory from his grandfather before. He wasn't doubtful that a Pokémon would grow despondent after their trainers death—there was plenty of anecdotal evidence from before any of this had ever happened—but he was skeptical in this situation, given Purrloin had been the one to deliver the virus that would kill her trainer and that all the infected Pokémon seemed so bent on death anyway.

"I don't know if I buy into that," Gary said, and Silver looked annoyed.

"How's the Joltik doing in comparison?" Silver asked.

"Which Joltik? I have like twenty of them," Gary reminded him.

"Ash's Joltik," Silver clarified.

"Ash's—Ash doesn't have a Joltik." Gary gave him an odd look. "Most of the Joltik we have are wild. The one that isn't came from a trainer named Oscar Soul."

Silver paused and returned an equally estranged, blank stare.

"I'm Oscar Soul," he said bluntly.

Gary stared back. In an instant, everything clicked in his head.

"Arceus," he sighed. "Don't tell Paul that."

* * *

Paul paused long enough to check whatever Reggie was watching on the television and, discovering there was no earth-shattering or reputation-destroying news on air, he continued on without a word. Reggie must have noticed his entrance, though, because he snapped his head back and called out to him.

"Hey, hey—" He scrambled to stand. "Where are you headed?"

"The gym?" Paul raised an eyebrow. "Where I'm always headed?"

"I heard you're going to infiltrate the old Team Rocket Unova base," Reggie said.

Paul glowered at him and asked, "Where did you hear that?"

"I talk to Cynthia on a near-regular basis now," Reggie said, "which is pretty cool when you think about it." Paul's expression said he didn't think the same. Them talking to each other gave both access to details he didn't want either to have, like this one.

"Yes, we're going to the Unova base," Paul begrudgingly admitted.

"Can I come?"

"Why would you want to come?" Paul asked tiredly.

"Why wouldn't I?" Reggie threw back. "You do realize I was there seven years ago when the G-Men took down the Hoenn base."

Paul hadn't realized, but he gave in with, "Whatever." He paused and checked the time on his phone. "I'm leaving in a couple minutes, so you should be ready by then."

"Noted." Reggie started to head out of the room, but as he passed by, Paul spoke up again.

"How much longer are you going to be around for anyway?" he half-demanded. Reggie stopped.

"As long as you need," he answered simply.

"You have a family to get back to."

"You are my family, and Maylene understands," Reggie reminded him.

Paul was unmoved, but he was silent for a moment as he considered from where he had come and where he had been. Leaf edged her way into his mind; she would be expecting him soon, and she would be annoyed if he was late.

"I'm in good hands," Paul eventually said. Reggie blinked but cracked a small smile.

"I'll look for a flight then," he said before disappearing.

* * *

"A meeting?" Ursula raised her eyebrow as spoke with Drew, who was casually leaning over the wall separating her desk from his. "What kind of meeting?"

Drew was one of the few lead staffers who actually ended up in the office that day. After Leaf, much to his surprise, had reached out to him late last night and said they needed help taking on the Unova base the next day, there was a scramble for them—May, Zoey, Dawn, Barry, and Kenny—to ready themselves for a fight, since they were the last to know. There was never a question of whether they would join or not, though. It was a given.

"It's just something personal," Drew hastily and vaguely explained. "It'll only be for the day."

"Well, all right," Ursula said with a dismissive wave before picking up her cell phone again. "You do whatever you need to do, I guess."

"You're in charge while we're gone," Drew informed her.

"Of course I am," she scoffed. "I wouldn't expect you would ever hand the reins over to one of these ninnies." Conway overheard and glowered at her from behind his computer.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Drew said dryly. He started moving away, but was quickly pulled back by another of Ursula's remarks.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with the G-Men, would it?" she asked innocently. He stared, and Ursula smirked, interpreting his nonresponsiveness as a "yes." She continued, "Thought so. Even after all this time, it always goes back to that, doesn't it?"

* * *

Iris's office was near-full with people—some recognizable, others not—by the time Serena arrived in tow of Ash's company. She trailed behind him and Misty, whom she had noted seemed to be getting along exceptionally well in spite of what happened last night, and was unintentionally keeping stride with Silver, who had always preferred to hang back.

Their train was briefly halted, however, when Ash stopped in front an unfamiliar woman with light, feathery lilac hair.

"Winona, hey!" he greeted, friendly but surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"Hello, Ash," Winona replied amicably. "I'll be taking you to the base by plane."

"Oh, I see! That makes sense," Ash mused. "Good to see you again."

"Always a pleasure." They continued on, but when Serena and Silver passed her, Winona's eyes locked on the red-haired male, and her pupils visibly grew wider with wonderment. She snagged his attention with the question, "Do I know you?"

"Nope," Silver answered without making eye contact. Winona didn't press the matter further, and Serena, somehow bothered by the exchange, fell back to join Clemont and Bonnie. They found an open waiting space among several of the CIU staffers, and Serena shuffled to stand beside Dawn, who flashed her a welcoming smile.

"Hey, you're a new face," Bonnie remarked, leaning toward a dark-haired young male, whom Serena guessed couldn't have been much older than her. "What's your name?"

"Uh..." The young man adjusted his glasses. "Max."

"Ah!" Bonnie grinned. "Are you a No. 17?"

"A... A what?" Max looked at her, estranged.

"Were on that journey with others seven years ago?" Bonnie clarified, though she spoke as if her question had been question all along.

"Oh, no." Max shook his head. "I'm May's younger brother." He pointed, and May herself perked up and waved.

"Where's Drew?" Misty asked her when she noticed his absence.

"He should be coming soon," May replied. "He was at the office taking care of some last-minute things. We're still waiting on a couple people actually—Paul isn't here yet, and Cilan is coming back from class."

Just then, Paul entered the room with Reggie following closely behind. Dawn immediately drew into herself, but rather than focus on her, Paul's eyes snapped toward a different woman: a blonde with quixotic, teal eyes in a flowing pink dress. The woman noticed his gaze and smiled at him in a dreamy sort of way, and Paul appeared suspicious. He slowly made his way over to Leaf's side and dragged his eyes away from her toward Dawn, who looked down in response.

"What took you?" Leaf asked him.

"I was waiting on this one." Paul flicked his head back toward Reggie, who smiled sheepishly in response.

"Ah. Well, we're still waiting anyway."

Drew was the next to arrive. He exchanged a tense glance with Leaf before joining May and pecking her on the lips as a greeting. Max frowned at this and folded his arms, looking away.

"Is everything in order at the office?" Zoey asked him.

"Should be," Drew replied in brief.

Cilan was the last, and he, like Paul, had an unexpected guest. Burgundy—Serena believed that was her name—was trailing behind him, her curly hair wound into a tight ponytail.

"I hope you don't mind," he began, addressing both Leaf and his wife, "but I informed Burgundy of our task today following the end of class, and she was interested in joining us. You'll have to excuse our lateness; we stopped by her apartment so she could change into a different outfit."

"No, I don't mind at all," Iris said with a tired smile. Burgundy appeared relieved, and Iris and Cilan exchanged a furtive, affectionate glance. Iris appeared strangely impressed, proud even, while Cilan looked grateful. Leaf's expression didn't change throughout the entire conversation. If she was in any way opposed to the addition, it didn't show, and perhaps that was because she didn't have ground to show it.

"Well, that's everyone," Leaf said, doing a brief, visual headcount—she had Trip and his companions from Nuvema Town, she had the CIU staff, she had the four former Team Rocket grunts and their Meowth, she had Ash and company, she had the Champions old and new, and she had Gary. "So let's get start—"

"—Wait!" May broke in suddenly, desperately.

"What?" Leaf glanced at her with wide eyes. May's tone made the matter sound serious. "What is it?"

Yet, May fell back with a smile and said, "Shouldn't we introduce ourselves?"

Leaf's expression deadpanned, and she stared at the other brunette blankly.

"May, we have known each other for _seven years_," she emphasized. "I think we're way past introductions."

"I don't know everyone in this room," May protested. She then gestured to the blonde woman who had smiled at Paul. "I don't know who she is."

"That's Caitlin," Paul said gruffly.

"Caitlin!" May eagerly repeated the name. "It's nice to meet you, Caitlin."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, too, May," Caitlin replied with a voice as romantic as her hazy aura. Leaf sucked in her breath and sighed.

"There, are you satisfied now?" she asked May.

"Just because I know most everyone doesn't mean everyone else does." May stood her ground. "What about someone like Serena?"

Serena's eyes widened, and she did an alarmed double-take between both May and Leaf.

"You know, I think names are important," another male across the room loudly spoke up, folding his arms as he did. "We should introduce ourselves, just so we have it all straight."

"Yeah, okay Biff," Leaf said dryly, dismissively, and the male turned bright red.

"My name is _not_—"

"—It's okay!" Serena exclaimed, waving her hands. "It's okay. We don't have to introduce ourselves. I'll be fine. I think I know most everyone here."

May pouted, but Leaf spoke before she could say anything further.

"Great," she said with a nod. "Then let's take a look at this." She pointed toward the same bulletin board with the Unovan map that she had dragged down from the wall earlier that day. "According to James, the base is in the Entralink of Unova."

"The Entralink?" Kenny asked, blinking.

"Center of communications. Literal center," Trip clarified shortly. "My question is this: How would Team Rocket have managed to keep a base in the Entralink without someone noticing?"

"Easy," Jessie said coolly, "either we bought the maintenance workers for the Entralink out, or the maintenance workers already worked for us. It's the same way we were able to keep the base below the Ampharos Train hidden, for a time."

"So what's the plan?" Ash asked, ready to move along.

"Well, after we land, we'll head into the Entralink communication center," Leaf explained, "and our former Team Rocket fellows will lead us to the base entrance, which is protected by some kind of 'double-lock' that Butch and Cassidy will open for us."

"Wait, what?" Jessie looked at her strangely. "A 'double-lock'?"

"Yes?" Leaf raised an eyebrow.

"There's no—" Jessie stopped short when she caught Cassidy's warning, though pleading gaze. Suddenly, she understood, and Jessie pressed her lips together before looking away. "Never mind. Yeah. The 'double-lock.'"

Adalet and Lance exchanged pointed glances, having now seen through the ruse. Lance then expectantly looked at Leaf, whose expression said she also had seen it, but much to his chagrin, she ended up shrugging it off.

"Well, whatever," Leaf sighed. "Once it's open, Lance and I will be the first to head inside to get a scope of the place. From there, the rest of you will be split into teams—five of them. One led by James, one led by Jessie, one led by Butch, one led by Cassidy, and one led by Meowth." Barry raised his hand. "Yes, Barry?"

"Do our teams have names?" he asked, dropping his hand.

"No."

"Can our teams have names?"

"If you want to give your team a name, fine," Leaf answered, annoyed.

"I'm sorry," Georgia broke in impatiently, "but what is the purpose of these teams?"

"There's strength in numbers," Leaf replied. "You battle alongside your team and basically take down everyone and everything you can. Lance used this model seven years ago when the G-Men infiltrated the Hoenn base. It worked then, and it will work now."

_**July 7th, 2009. Afternoon. Location Unknown.**_

"What were the results of the latest experiment?" Colress inquired, peering anxiously at the sleeping, twitching Deino before him. The Deino's rest, though uneasy, gave the hopeful impression that perhaps some change had occurred and success was finally within their grasp. The donation pool SAMPLe had collected after N's television appearance had equipped them with the tools needed to test more hypotheses.

Yet, the researcher standing before Colress shook his head and said, "No changes, sir."

"None?"

"None, sir," the researcher repeated.

Colress pulled back with a frown. He had been hopeful about this particular experiment, too. The suggestion had been made that perhaps this was not a matter of immunity, but diet. Thus, they had tried to replicate Lileep's food intake with the Deino, but it, like many other experiments conducted, had failed.

"Well, we'll just have to try something else then," Colress said simply. He perked up in alarm when he heard a boom overhead and cast his eyes toward the ceiling.

_**July 7th, 2009. Afternoon. The Entralink.**_

"Draw two cards, May," Drew informed his girlfriend in a wry, almost triumphant tone after laying one of his cards down on the stack that was situated in the center of aisle. The flight was underway, and though they knew it would not be a long one—there wasn't a great distance to cover between the Entralink and Opelucid City—someone had, at some point, brought out a deck of cards, which meant a few more people were going to bring out their decks of cards and combine them in order to play.

May glowered at him and begrudgingly drew two cards as per his instructions.

"I'm starting to think you've stacked your hand," she murmured.

"I shuffled the deck," Gary reminded her.

"Drew is very sneaky, and also, you're friends," May threw back.

Serena herself wasn't playing, but she had been observing the game since it started ten minutes earlier with an estranged expression. Finally, she leaned toward Ash, who instead of playing was petting the Pikachu in his lap, and asked, "How is it that you're all able to stay so calm?" He blinked and looked toward her as she continued, "We're about to head into what's presumably going to be a big battle, and you're playing cards."

"Oh, I dunno," Ash replied with a shrug of his shoulders before glancing back at the game. "I guess we've been at this kinda thing for so long that you get used to it, and it's just another normal day."

"Reverse," Kenny declared after laying down his next card, and Georgia glared at him.

"You punk," she scoffed, to which Kenny only cheekily grinned and shrugged.

"She fits in with us well," Ritchie remarked, looking toward Trip, whose lips twitched into a smile.

"Yeah, she does," he agreed.

"_Ladies and gentleman._" Everyone stopped when Wallace's voice chimed in over the PA system. _"We will be beginning our descent shortly, so please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts._"

The game immediately ended, with everyone playing turning in their cards and following the instructions delivered. The mood had sobered up as they now approached their mission. Serena glanced out the window, looking down at the area to which they were moving: an open, grassy clearing with a large, metallic structure in the middle that looked similar to the button of a Pokéball. From it rose a tall spire of the same material. As they came closer to the ground, she noted the violet wildflowers whipping violently in the wind of their descent and the variety of Pokémon scattering away.

They touched down. A chorus of unclicking seat belts followed, even though neither Winona nor Wallace had given them the go-ahead. Nevertheless, both soon emerged from the cockpit and Winona opened the door leading outside. She threw down a rope ladder to the ground, and the rest of the group began filing outside.

"Are you coming with us?" Cynthia inquired of Winona politely when she passed.

"I will not," Winona answered. "I'm staying here and watching the plane. I wish you the best of luck, though. I'll come if things go wrong."

Ash was one of the final few to step onto the rungs of the ladder leading to the ground, but he jumped the rest of the way mid-way down. He motioned for Pikachu, who had stayed on the plane while his trainer descended, to jump into his arms. Pikachu nodded and leapt forward, and Ash caught him with ease. He then looked toward the silver, circular structure in the middle of the clearing.

"Is that the base?" he asked aloud.

"No, that's the Entralink," James answered. "We have to go inside."

"Well, outside is locked!" Dawn called from afar.

"I can take care of that," Leaf said, approaching. "What kind of lock is it?"

"Um..." Dawn didn't have to answer, because with one look, Leaf pulled out a bobby pin and stuck it into the keyhole. When she heard it click, she tried to pull the door open, but the door budged only a few inches before being halted by a deadbolt. From there, Leaf reached into her bag and pulled out a thick envelope, one she had pulled from Iris's office, and slid it into the open space to push the latch off.

"... Do you just carry this stuff around with you normally?" Serena asked after a moment.

"When I'm knowingly breaking into things, I do," Leaf said.

"Is it really breaking in if you're the Champion?" Gary posed it as if it were a philosophical question.

"It is when we don't ask for permission."

"Who are we supposed to get permission from?"

"The Entralink is owned by the Unovan Communications Company." Leaf paused thoughtfully before adding, "... which is actually something the league isn't connected to, but it's not like anyone's going to challenge us."

"Better to beg forgiveness than to ask for permission," Misty recited the old saying.

Leaf pushed the door open, and the group began to filter inside. They were met with the base of the thick spire in the center of the room and a waterfall of wires and blinking lights that descended below ground.

"All right," Leaf began, gesturing toward Cassidy. "Lead the way."

Cassidy nodded.

"It's over here," she said, and she took them an inconspicuous trap door. Opening it revealed a bolted ladder leading to a basement lit by florescence. The actual door, presumably leading into the old Team Rocket base, was more conspicuous. It was a large, heavy door with an eight-digit number key on the front, a security measure Leaf couldn't as easily get around.

Cassidy strode straight toward the door and rolled through the first four numbers. She then motioned for Butch to join her, indicating he should finish the combination. He did so, then pulled on the handle—but it didn't move. He tried again, but nothing happened.

"It—It didn't work," Butch stammered, swallowing. Cassidy stared at him with wide eyes for a moment, then glanced back at Adalet and Lance's unimpressed expressions before returning her nervous gaze toward her partner.

"You dunderhead!" She hit him. "Did you forget your half of the code?" Jessie breathed out in frustration and went forward, ordering the two to "step aside" so she could try her own hand at the lock. She didn't call James over as to maintain the "double-lock" illusion.

After spending a moment mixing up the eight numbers, she re-entered the code and pulled on the handle again, and it still didn't budge.

"It's changed," Jessie declared, turning back toward at the larger group.

"What's changed?" Zoey asked

"The code was 1-2-2-4-1-9-8-7," Jessie explained. "Obviously, it isn't that anymore."

"1-2-2-4-1-9-8-7?" Silver recited it dryly. "I could have told you that." Ash blinked and tightened his lips. He remembered: 1-2-2-4-1-9-8-7 was the same code the gave them access to the Sinnoh base seven years earlier. It was Silver's birthday.

"The agreement was that you could take us to the Unova base," Lance growled.

"And here you are, on the doorstep," Cassidy replied, trying to maintain her cool.

"Jessie and James were the ones who told us the base was in the Entralink, and the only reason we pulled him—" Adalet pointed to Butch. "—out was because you said he would be needed to get through the purported 'double-lock' on the entrance. I don't see a double-lock."

"It's okay, Erol," Iris spoke before either Butch or Cassidy could grapple for another excuse. "We'll just have to think of another way to get inside."

Adalet fell back.

"Of course, Ms. Ajagara," he said.

"Sure, he respects her," Leaf mumbled bitterly under breath, but Paul was unmoved.

"She gave him a job, and she's actually nice to him," he pointed out.

"So, what next?" Ash asked, moving forward. His eyes gave the door a once-over. "Do we break down the door?"

"And alert anyone who might be inside that we're here?" Gary shot the idea down. Georgia frowned and cast her eyes elsewhere, and it wasn't long before she left Trip's side. Trip noticed this and watched her go warily.

"We could break down the door _quietly_," Barry suggested.

"I don't think you can quietly break down a door," Dawn remarked.

"Well, what about this vent?" Georgia spoke from afar, pointing to the said vent that was several feet above her head. "It's not _huge_, but I bet Iris could fit through it."

She drew several surprised looks, including one from Cilan. Iris, however, remained disaffected.

"What?" Cilan asked.

"Look at this vent," Georgia impatiently repeated herself. "It probably leads to somewhere in that base. It might be a tight squeeze, but I think Iris could get through it."

The attention was then on Iris, who only considered the suggestion for a moment before agreeing, "All right. All I need is a boost."

Georgia smirked in response and retrieved one of her Pokéballs.

"Bisharp, come out." The Steel-type emerged and stood tall, automatically sharpening its blades. Georgia pointed and ordered, "Use Slash on those bars."

With a grunt and a running start, Bisharp charged toward the vent and jumped up, slashing its blades at the vent in the shape of an "X," and the front piece fell to the ground. Lance winced and looked irritated.

"Be conscious of the noise we're making," he warned. No one acknowledged his remark as Iris moved forward and looked at the now-open vent, considering the space.

"Paul, help me up," she said, gesturing for him to come over. He did so and was able to lift her onto his shoulders with relative ease, and Iris managed to crawl inside.

"Do you fit?" Paul asked her.

"_It is a little small, but I can get through it._" Her voice, now muffled, echoed through the vent.

"Do you have your cell phone on you in case there's an emergency?" Cilan called out to her.

"_No,_" she answered. "_Would a cell phone even work down here?_"

"We're in the center for all of Unova's communications, so yes, probably," Trip replied flippantly.

"_Well, I don't have it anyway._" She paused and, imagining her husband's exasperated expression, added, "_Don't worry, Cilan. We've been married long enough—if anything goes wrong, I'll send you a telekinetic message._"

Caitlin found this remark funny and laughed airily to herself. Cilan only sighed.

"I'll keep my mind open for it," he humored her. Iris went ahead, and they listened to her leave until they strained to hear her at all. Bonnie frowned and looked toward Leaf.

"So now what?" she asked her with folded arms.

"We wait, and we be quiet," Leaf answered simply. That said, she moved toward the wall and, with a sigh, slid down against it. So much for her original plans—then again, nothing ever went according to plan went it came to their band. She was eventually, silently, joined by others throughout the anxious wait, though some still remained standing, on high alert.

When the silence had persisted for long enough, Ash glanced down at Leaf and began, "Do you think—"

"Shh," she hushed him. She had heard a clamoring at the locked door and jumped to her feet. The rest of the group also scrambled to their feet or readied themselves for whatever would meet them. The door opened from the inside and—

"Iris!" Cilan loosened up upon seeing her, relieved she was okay.

"Well, I found it," she said with a sigh, moving out to meet the group.

"The base?" Lance questioned her.

"Yeah." Iris nodded. "There's no one there."

"_What_?" Leaf mentally stumbled.

"The place is completely empty." Iris held a hand toward the now-open door. "Come see for yourself."

_**July 7th, 2009. Afternoon. Location Unknown.**_

"What am I to do with you?" Colress sighed as he circled the Lileep—the origin of the outbreak—one, two, three times. The ancient Pokémon was set up in a tall, glass tube full of water. It was only a temporary set-up after the move; when time permitted, they would move him to a larger tank. "Surely the cure is somewhere in you—you are the one who can endure the virus. How can we replicate your immunity?"

"Colress?"

Colress abandoned his musings and looked up to see Ghetsis standing before him. He straightened himself up.

"Yes, sir," Colress acknowledged him.

"A word," Ghetsis said beckoning for him to come. He then turned and started in the opposite direction.

"Of course," Colress agreed, following.

_**July 7th, 2009. Afternoon. The Entralink.**_

"I can't believe this," Drew began in frustration as he cast his eyes about the affirmatively empty former Team Rocket base. "I had honestly thought we'd see something come from this."

He then pressed his hand to his nose in an attempt to block out a repulsive smell that intensified the deeper they ventured inside. The area was dim, and the flashlights, including those on phones, were on. A few had grappled in the darkness looking for a light switch, but none had found one, and the group of former Rocket didn't seem to know where it might be either. Thus, they wandered on through their disappointment, clinging to the few sources of light they had.

"This is just like the Sinnoh base all over again," Paul agreed.

"You and I remember what happened at the Sinnoh base very differently," Leaf mumbled wryly. She cast her flashlight toward the ceiling, at the darkened fluorescent lamps above. "Well, I guess it's a good thing we assembled our ragtag team of snarky assholes instead of taking the time to reach out to actual elite trainers, because this is a complete let-down."

"Hey, I take offense to that." Barry glowered at her. "I am an elite trainer, just as good as one anyway."

"Barry, go talk at someone who isn't me." Leaf wasn't in the mood to entertain him.

"I wouldn't count this a failure yet," Cynthia remarked from elsewhere. "Aside from that rotten scent, this place is sparkling. There's not a sign of dust in sight. Either someone has been needlessly maintaining it these past seven years or it's recently been deserted, and its previous occupants cleaned up after themselves. Sound familiar?"

"The SAMPLe office," Wallace said, understanding her lead.

"The code changed, too," May added helpfully. "That _has_ to mean someone else was here!"

"Yeah, you're all right," Leaf conceded. "... Let's take a look around then. Maybe we can find something, some hint of where they might have gone."

"Or some hint of a treatment," Trip mumbled, heading his own way with Georgia and Ritchie not far behind. Caitlin, however, stopped abruptly where she stood, causing both the nearby Dawn, Paul, and Reggie to stare.

"I would check in that direction," Caitlin said, pointing. Dawn and Paul exchanged quick, unassuming glances, and she shrugged before going where Caitlin was pointing. Paul hesitated before following her. Reggie decided to hang back.

They eventually ended up at a gray, metallic door, the handle of which Dawn pulled, only to discover it was locked. She was prepared to call over Leaf, the resident expert in unlocking doors with objects that weren't keys, but Paul reached into his pocket and enlarged one of his Pokéballs.

"Here," he started, "stand back." Dawn nodded and backed away. He then tossed the ball up, and from it came his Aggron.

"Aggron, use Take Down on that door," Paul ordered calmly. Aggron nodded and, with a loud cry that echoed through the underground space and caused Dawn to wince, charged toward the door and knocked it down. The clamor spurred several faraway utterances of "Arceus" and "What the hell was that?", but Paul ignored these as he recalled Aggron and moved the broken door aside. He then gestured for Dawn to go ahead of him, and she cautiously did so.

Dawn fumbled with her phone, turning the flashlight feature back on. She moved it around the room, over the walls, and eventually, she felt her breath catch. Paul saw it, too, and he managed to find the light switch.

"Hey!" Dawn called out in the larger room after a moment. "We found something!"

Within minutes, the rest of the group had ventured toward where they heard Dawn's voice and congregated in the small room to see her and Paul's discovery. Leaf was one of the last to join the crowd.

"What's going on? What did we—" She stopped short, her eyes widening. "Wait, this is..."

"From the ruins of Mew," Cilan finished for her, answering the question Burgundy, among others, had when they saw the framed, protected tablet hanging on the wall. "This was left behind by the original Team Rocket. This was a part of their studies when they wanted to create Mewtwo."

"What's it say?" Iris asked, glancing toward Leaf.

"Oh yeah, like I can read ancient languages," Leaf sassed her. She paused, however, when realization stuck her. "Wouldn't it be great if we knew someone who could, though?" She looked pointedly at Paul, who, at first, ignored her gaze. "Wow, just think about it. It would be so convenient to know someone who was expert in ancient civilizations and the study of Pokémon ruins." More eyes were on him, and now Paul was glowering at her. "If only one of us had a friend, or a family member, maybe a father who could—"

"—I'll call him," Paul gruffly obliged.

"Thank you, Paul." Leaf reached up, removed the tablet from its hanging place, and, discovering it was heavier than she expected, shoved it into the arms of Adalet. "Hold this. Let's keep looking around."

They filed outside the room, dispersing once more. Clemont's nose twitched, and he turned his head toward the right, toward a particularly dark area of the room.

"What _is_ that smell?" he asked aloud, to no one in particular.

"No idea." Bonnie made a face.

"It certainly is an _âcre_ odor..." Burgundy remarked.

Serena apparently agreed and, equipped with her phone, bravely moved forward toward whatever the smell might be. Her best theory—if it was true that Team Plasma had quickly moved out of the base, as had been suggested—was that it was merely an unplugged refrigerator somewhere, the contents of which were now molding in the muggy underground atmosphere.

She was wrong.

Ash jumped in alarm when he heard Serena scream, and he darted after her voice, with Misty and Silver hot on his tracks. They were not the only ones who hurried toward her: Clemont and Bonnie also ran after her, as did Iris, and Cilan and Burgundy were not far behind.

"Hey!" Ash started worriedly when he found his obviously shaken Kalosian friend. Pikachu, cheeks sparking, had jumped off his shoulder to confront whatever potential danger Serena had found while his trainer attended to her. "What's wrong? What happened?" She did not have to answer, for the light Misty shined revealed it unto him: In a perfect row in front of them, there laid four progressively more rotten corpses of Pokémon.

"... Arceus," Silver breathed in disgust. "What is this?"

Bonnie pulled Serena back toward herself and Clemont, who laid a comforting hand on the brunette's shoulder. Misty herself started to draw away, toward Ash, thoroughly disturbed. Pikachu ended his aggressive stance and also backed off. However, when Iris arrived, she, after a heavy, slow swallow push down the sickness in her throat, motioned for Cilan to hand her his phone. He shakily did so, and she cautiously moved toward the line alongside Ash.

"These are four of the first six Pokémon that were infected in Unova," she soon realized. "Minccino..." She pointed to each as she spoke. "Glaceon... Swoobat... Archen... The only two that are missing are Sandile and Houndoom."

"_Correct._" Both Iris's and Ash's heads snapped up before they stumbled back. "_These are bodies of the Pokémon improperly disposed of by those who were here before._"

A figure emerged from the shadows, and Ash let out an incredulous breath.

"Mewtwo..."

_**July 7th, 2009. Afternoon. Location Unknown.**_

Ghetsis closed the door behind him, leaving him and Colress alone. Colress had seated himself in one of the red, plush chairs of the small office, and he waited for Ghetsis to seat himself before speakng.

"Have I done something to upset you, old friend?" he asked.

"I simply want us to level with each other," Ghetsis said plainly. "Why did you feel the need to relocate SAMPLe's research facilities from the Entralink to here so quickly? Keeping N oblivious is easy when he cannot see or hear what happens."

"I understand that," Colress conceded. "I had reason to believe, however, that if we did not leave, the G-Men would find us."

"Is that so?"

"Our old friend Andrew Hayden started poking his nose around," Colress explained in a near-bitter tone, "I received a call from Casper Eadward, the lawyer of the late Chris Rogers. Andrew sent him on an inquiry of more information about 'Ana' and 'Olivia.' Eadward was asking for names. I believe Andrew figured out that 'Ana' and 'Olivia' were, in reality, Annie and Oakley, the former members of Team Rocket."

"And you believed this would lead them to the Entralink?" Ghetsis still sounded doubtful.

"Eventually, yes." Colress nodded. "This is not a group to be underestimated, sir. N may have delivered a heavy blow to the G-Men, but its current leaders are the same who broke up Team Rocket seven years ago." He paused before gravely adding, "That is something we must take seriously."

_**July 7th, 2009. Afternoon. The Entralink.**_

It wasn't long before all had come to see what had prompted Serena's horrified scream and they were confronted with the visage of the world's most powerful Pokémon as he stood over the bodies of several fallen kin. Ash stood at the forefront of the group, unafraid of confronting the clone, and Silver stood only a little removed from his side.

"Did you set this out for us to find?" Ash eventually asked, gesturing toward the line of Pokémon.

Mewtwo flicked his heavy violet tail to the side.

"_Yes,_" he soon answered. Ash sucked in his breath.

"You knew we were coming, then," he said. "No, you didn't just know—you _wanted_ us to come. You made it possible. That's why you brought Silver and I back together, and why you led us to Jessie and James, because they would take us here."

Mewtwo said nothing, and his expression maintained his stoicism. Ash knew how to read his, however.

"Why?" he pressed.

"_These people are not who they say they are,_" Mewtwo answered simply. Ash nodded slowly before looking down.

"Right," he mumbled. "I guess if there was anyone who actually believed in what Team Plasma says it does, it'd be you."

"If that's true, then why get involved now?" Silver spoke up. "This has been going on for months."

"_I do not involve myself in the affairs of humans,_" Mewtwo reminded him.

"Oh, I see how it is," Silver scoffed. "Just bring us in to do your dirty work. It's fine." Ash cast a quick, disbelieving look at Silver, incredulous as to why he was speaking to him with such disrespect.

"Well... we want to stop them, too," Ash said, looking back toward Mewtwo. "and if you would help—" He stumbled over his own words, then asked, "Do you know where they went?"

"_I do not,_" Mewtwo answered.

"Can't you use your abilities to find them?" Gary asked, stepping forward. Mewtwo narrowed his gaze at him, but Gary didn't shrink back.

"_No._"

"Your understanding of Psychic-type powers is amusing," Caitlin remarked suddenly in a tone that made it sound as if she truly were amused. "Psychics are powerful, but they are not omniscient."

Drew pressed his lips into a hard line, and he folded him arms. He only took a moment to consider his next statement, and perhaps he would later regret his impulsivity, but once the words had left, there was nothing he could do to retrieve them.

"Well, if we can't find Team Plasma, then we'll have to bring Team Plasma to us," he decided.

"Your suggestion as to how we do that?" Lance questioned him, and Drew's mouth spread into a thin smirk.

"Word has it there's going to be a big contest in Nimbasa Town in ten days," he said.

.

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_Chapters in Part IV to come in two-week increments unless stated otherwise. Apologies for the inconvenience._


	25. XXIV: In Which Mewtwo Renews Questions

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Chapter XXIV: In Which Mewtwo Renews Questions

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_**July 11th, 2009. Morning. Opelucid City.**_

"_Sorry it took several days,_" Brandon opened with a gruff apology. "_Translating ancient languages is time-consuming, and some of the words were difficult to make out on the tablet, which lengthened the process. I think I have a fairly accurate translation for you, though._"

Despite the thousands of miles that already separated them, Paul sat further back from the video screen than what was considered normal or even comfortable. Brandon, whose age was starting to show under the glasses he donned, was shuffling through several papers, including a photograph copy of the ancient Mew tablet the G-Men had scanned and sent to the Frontier Brain several days earlier.

"It's fine. I understand," Paul hastily dismissed, half-mumbling. "Thanks."

"_I can fax or email it to you,_" Brandon offered.

"Email is fine," Paul said. Curiosity, though he didn't let it show, then compelled him to ask, "What did it say?"

"_Several things,_" Brandon replied. "_Not what you would expect, I think._"

"Not what I would expect?" Paul raised his eyebrows, intrigued.

"_It talked of a 'scourge'—that's the best word I could find for it—that originated in Mew and spread to other Pokémon,_" Brandon explained. "_The scourge brought out 'terrible powers' in the other Pokémon that could only be controlled by the compassion of a human companion—a trainer, in more modern terms._" He paused, then added, "_You have the read the whole translation to really try to understand._"

"... A scourge?" Paul repeated the word carefully, questioningly.

"_Yes._" Brandon nodded.

"What does that mean?" Paul asked.

"_An affliction, a plague,_" Brandon clarified. "_It's up for interpretation._"

Paul pursed his lips, considering this.

"How old does that tablet date?" he asked after a while.

"_About 4,000 years,_" Brandon answered.

Paul frowned and sighed, "Right..."

"_Is something wrong?_" Brandon inquired, noticing his son's reticence. He knew Paul to be reserved—he was, unlike his older brother, uncommunicative and slow to reveal how he was feeling, if he revealed it at all—but his detachment was more pronounced than usual.

"No," Paul answered quickly. "I'll read the entire translation. I'll send you more questions if I have them."

"_All right,_" Brandon replied in a seemingly conclusive tone. Yet, just as Paul was prepared to hang up, he asked, "_How are you?_"

Paul stopped and drew his hand away from the button that would cut the line.

"Fine," he answered shortly.

"_I spoke with Reggie the other day,_" Brandon went on. "_He recently returned from an extended business trip._"

"That so?" Paul droned, though he supposed he could appreciate Reggie upholding the promise not to bring their father into private issues. The last thing Paul wanted was for Brandon to know the late Lucia Rebolledo Blair had manifested herself in one of the worst ways possible.

"_He worries about you,_" Brandon remarked, which caused Paul to draw further into himself. Reggie had returned to Sinnoh a couple days earlier upon Paul's insistence, though he was certain Reggie would have stayed longer if he hadn't been sent away.

"I know," Paul replied tacitly. "He has no reason to. He knows that."

"_How's Dawn?_" Brandon asked, and Paul was half-surprised his father hadn't learned yet.

"She's fine, too." Paul decided to take an easy route rather than drag through an explanation of why they had broken up, if there was even a viable one. "Working." He glanced over his shoulder, as if to give the impression someone was calling for him. "I have to go."

"_All right,_" Brandon agreed. "_Keep in touch if you have questions._"

"Will do." Paul ended the call and immediately went to locate his laptop and wait on his father's email.

* * *

"I just don't know what to make of everything," James said in a low voice, casting quick glances toward Wallace and Cynthia, the only Champions currently present in the CIU office, every few moments. "I can't tell what their plans for us are. They've kind of us just ignored us since Tuesday, and I keep worrying about what's going to happen to us when they, you know... remember we exist."

He was leaning in closely toward his circle, a compacted group of five former Team Rocket members, himself included, and they were all casting similar suspicious glances at their leaders. At least, they collectively figured, Lance and Adalet weren't around; they were the only two who truly seemed to have it out for them.

"It's tricky, for sure," Meowth added. "I don't tink dat Iris wants anything to happen to us, but Paul is completely stone-faced. Leaf's hardly better."

"At least Cynthia and Wallace don't seem to care," Cassidy said with a scoff as she folded her arms, still watching the two from afar. "Funny, because they were a part of the line-up that put us in jail for seven years."

"What was your agreement with Lance and Adalet again?" Jessie asked stiffly, holding Jayce on her lap as he ate some pre-prepared snacks.

"That they would let us out on parole if we took them to the Unova base," Butch answered.

"Which we _did_," Cassidy muttered, "but then you guys had to show up and basically ruin it for us! We became useless with you three there."

"You were useless anyway because the code changed," Jessie snapped back. "We were all useless."

"Well, I think this just means we have to try to make ourselves useful... somehow," James said. " Show them we've gone straight, you know?"

"Yeah, yeah," Cassidy said with a roll of her eyes. "Whatever. You guys are safe anyway because you have _that_." She pointed at the toddler, and Jessie looked offended.

"_That_ happens to be Jayce," she growled, "and he is not some kind of 'shield' against the G-Men."

"Not to you, anyway," Cassidy dismissed. "But he is to them."

"You two make your own then if you're so jealous," Jessie grumbled, meaning both her and Butch, who turned bright red in response, but Cassidy only looked annoyed.

Winona sat nearby to this conversation with her pen pressed delicately to a small notepad in which she began a new doodle among the other simple, often feathery, designs she had casually drawn within the past several minutes. Her eyes, however, were constantly flicking up toward May as she spoke with Wallace. Drew was standing nearby, silent and visibly disgruntled. There were others, Winona knew, who were gathering, too—Ash, his female Kalosian friends, the Elite Four members Misty and Georgia, and Iris's employed photographer Trip were only a few of those had arrived and who were certainly coming for a meeting mutually called by Leaf and Drew.

"I think having you and Cynthia on the panel of judges will be a huge help," May told Wallace cheerfully. "The Wallace Cup draws huge crowds every year; the audience sizes are comparable to a Grand Festival. And then Cynthia's still wildly popular, even if she isn't the Champion anymore..."

"I would venture to say Cynthia was and is the all-time favorite," Wallace remarked in an equally amicable tone. His gaze fixated on her, however, as he added, "However, who is to say another new Champion might not capture the heart of the nation?"

May smiled without a hint of discomfort and replied, "Yeah—I think Ash really could if he ends up winning against Leaf." Drew cast his girlfriend a quick, careful glance, wise to her dodge. Wallace nearly frowned, unsure whether she was being evasive or cheeky or just plain oblivious. Before the conversation could carry on any further, the CIU doors opened and in came Leaf with Cilan and Iris in tow. Iris paused long enough to take in the scene before coming up beside Drew.

"This place is really nice," she told Drew simply.

"That's right—this is your first time actually in the office, isn't it?" Drew realized.

"Mhm," Iris hummed, smoothing her dress. "It's about time I came, wouldn't you agree?"

"Well, we're happy to have you," Dawn offered as she rose from her seat at a nearby desk and joined them with an weak smile.

"You _are_ the reason why all this is happening," Drew added, addressing Iris, which earned him a warning glance from Leaf. He continued, "And you're our largest supporter financially, so I think we're bound to what you say—at least, that's how most modern politics work, anyway."

"You volunteered this," Leaf reminded him.

"I was being facetious," Drew retorted tiredly.

Leaf remained wary but asked, "How aware is your staff that your contest is being lined with rat traps?"

"They're not, aside from an obvious few," Drew answered bluntly, "and I would prefer it stay that way, which is easy enough. Cynthia and Wallace were going to be judges out of support for the movement before we ever decided to use the contest to angle for some—" He stopped to make sure none of his unknowing staffers were listening. "—Team Plasma grunts."

"True," Leaf conceded. "But now we're pulling out all the stops."

"Whaddaya mean?" Barry inquired.

"I think we need to make room for another judge on the panel," Leaf went on, and her gaze fell upon Iris, who drew back in surprise.

"Wait—_me_?" Iris was thrown off by the suggestion.

"You're the Champion of Unova, and I hate to be crass, but your head is the ultimate prize," Leaf explained. "Wallace and Cynthia—" She gestured to each. "—will help drawn in a huge crowd and ensure the success of the contest, but I think it's going to take more than a large crowd to bait Team Plasma."

"Ah yes, let's just set Iris up as a target for extremists," Cilan remarked bitterly, understandably discomfitted by the plan.

"Oh, I'm not worried about that," Iris said with a wave of her hand. "I've never judged a contest before though, let alone battled in one."

"It's no matter," Cynthia kindly assured her. "I've never participated in a contest either, but I've judged several over the years."

"I still have no idea how to do it, though," Iris protested.

"We'll teach you," Wallace offered.

"We can do better than that." Leaf craned her neck, scanning the office area. She spotted Misty first, speaking to Ash, Serena, and Bonnie—Clemont was back at the Opelucid Pokémon Center working, and Silver's whereabouts were a mystery, as usual—and then she found Georgia separated elsewhere with her own posse, which for now consisted of Ritchie and Trip. She then called out to both of them, saying, "Hey, Misty, Georgia!" When both women looked up, Leaf said, "You're entering the contest next week, and you're going to give Iris practice as a judge this afternoon."

Misty responded to the order well with a simple "okay"—by then, she knew when to pick battles with Leaf and when to just roll with the punches—but Georgia gave the Indigo Champion an odd look and sassed, "_What?_"

"I need you to enter the special contest on the 17th, and I'd like for you to battle Misty this afternoon so Iris can get in practice as a contest judge," Leaf repeated herself with more specifics. Georgia looked annoyed, never one to take orders, and stood up to confront the group directly. Trip and Ritchie exchanged a quick glance and cautiously rose, too. Ash and the others were also attuned to the situation.

"Since when is Iris a judge?" Georgia demanded. "And why do I _need_ to enter?"

"We need to make a tempting argument for Team Plasma to pay us a visit, and I think having two Elite Four members participating would help," Leaf said coolly. "Iris is a judge for the same reason."

"I don't know anything about contests."

"Neither does Iris; that's why we're getting you some practice." Leaf stood her ground. "And you couldn't ask for better teachers."

"Sorry?" Georgia craned an eyebrow.

"You are a literally in a room full of the best and brightest stars of the coordinating circuit," Leaf said plainly, gesturing toward Drew, May, Dawn, and Zoey, among others. "One of them can help you. You don't need to win, you just need to—"

"—not embarrass myself, given this will apparently be my debut as an Elite Four member." Although Georgia still wasn't pleased, she was resigning herself to the idea.

"Exactly," Leaf said lightly. "Glad you understand."

"I'd be happy to help!" May chimed in. "If it's okay with everyone else, I mean." She looked toward Drew questioningly, who gave her a nod of approval. She smiled and looked back at Georgia."Okay! Then I can coach you and Misty. You're both already experienced battlers who know your Pokémon well—it's just a matter of changing your approaches. Coordinators have to battle with showing off their Pokémon's inner abilities in mind."

"Besides, it's a dud contest," Kenny added unhelpfully.

"A... dud contest?" Trip asked cautiously, approaching.

"It means the prize ribbon is meaningless," Drew explained in brief. "No one can use it to enter a Grand Festival. A lot of registered class coordinators from other regions won't bother to come out for it for that reason, which is fine. We're not looking to attract class coordinators; we're looking to attract interested Unovan trainers who could potentially _become_ class coordinators in a Unova contest branch. That's the whole point."

"Even so, why would non-classes enter if there's no real payoff?" Georgia asked.

"For glory," Barry said with a determined shaking of his fist.

"For enjoyment," Zoey added.

"For the chance to be judged by three Champions and battle against two Elite Four members," Leaf pressed.

"... Fair enough," Georgia conceded. "Fine, I'll do it."

"Hey..." Ash began slowly, standing up, too, with Pikachu in his arms. "If they're entering, can I also enter?" His question earned an exasperated look from Leaf, though she supposed she could not have expected anything else.

"You can do whatever you want, Ash," she told him. "In fact, maybe having the winner of the Indigo Conference participating would help."

"Oh, sweet!" Ash's inclined his head to look down at Pikachu. "You up for it, Pikachu? I'll take you into the appeals and the battle round." Realization struck Jessie, thinking on James's words earlier, and she pushed their son into her husband's arms before leaping to her feet.

"In that case," she started with a wry smile and flip of her hair, "I suppose I should offer my services here as well."

"Offer your services?" Drew repeated dryly.

"Why, of course," Jessie replied with a dramatic hand over her heart. "It's been eight years since Jessilina last appeared in the contest circuit, and this will be her grand return to the stage! Thousands of fans will surely come! It will help the cause; I know it."

Meowth sighed, and James appeared mildly embarrassed. Butch stared at Jessie confusedly while Cassidy folded her arms and grumbled under her breath. Other confused or half-amused glances were exchanged, but May stepped forward to speak.

"Hey, you know—" she began positively, "—we can get all the help we can get, so I think it would be great to have you." May turned toward Leaf and Iris next. "In fact, maybe, if enough people here are really interested in participating, we can have a eight-person roster for an informal contest at the Opelucid Gym. That'll give Iris plenty of practice as a judge and participants plenty of practice as... well, participants!"

Paul edged into the office in the middle of May's proposal, but his arrival was noted only by Dawn, who stiffened slightly upon seeing him. He briefly made eye contact with her but looked away again, and Dawn internally chastised herself: Was she going to act awkwardly around Paul for the rest of their lives? She couldn't; they were in the same circle of friends. Paul stopped off to the side of the group and managed to catch Leaf's gaze, and she gave him a slight nod of acknowledgment before looking back at May.

"I think that would be a fine idea," Wallace commended. "Excellent idea, May." Drew was chagrined, and Max rolled his eyes at Drew's expression.

Bonnie prodded Serena in the side and said, "Hey, we should totally do it! You, especially, would be great at it. You've got all that experience competing in Pokémon Performances, and this isn't that different!"

"Uh..." Serena blinked. "I guess so."

"You should, Serena!" Ash encouraged. "Bonnie's right. You'd be great at it!"

"Well... okay," Serena agreed with an uncertain smile.

"Then for everyone who wants to participate, let's meet at the Opelucid Gym after lunch for an 'informal contest,'" Leaf said. "Say... 2:00 p.m.?"

"Fine by me," Georgia answered flippantly before returning to Trip's side. The rest of the group decided to disperse, too, and that's when Paul cut through the crowd to meet with Leaf.

"I need to talk to you," he said in a low voice.

"To which of us?" Iris, who was standing next to the Indigo Champion, asked.

"Both of you," Paul answered. Although he originally sought after Leaf, he realized Iris relevant in the matter, too.

"What's going on?" Leaf asked.

"I received the translation back from Brandon," Paul, and already, Leaf looked unimpressed.

"Look, I'm sure that tablet is interesting, but it's not exactly a priority," she said. "Getting it translated is more related to what happened seven years ago and not what's happening now."

"Let me finish," Paul grumbled. "I think it says something that could be connected to the virus."

"What?" Iris perked up.

"Brandon said there was something about a 'scourge' in it, something that granted Pokémon terrible powers," Paul elaborated. "Sound familiar?"

"It sounds a little too convenient, if I'm being honest," Leaf admitted.

"Look, just tell Gary to come so both of you can read it over and see what you think," Paul pressed. "We don't have much going for us right now with a treatment, and even our plans to draw in Team Plasma are based on assumptions. We might as well look into it." Iris nodded, convinced.

"I agree. I think we should check it out," she said, looking toward Leaf, who frowned, but eventually gave in.

"Fine," she agreed. "I'll call Gary. He can come over at 2 p.m. during practice."

* * *

"So I noticed Paul came in earlier," Ursula started with a teasing, almost malicious, tone as she leaned toward Dawn across the desk that separated them. Dawn blinked and slowly, tiredly, brought her eyes up to those of her former rival's.

"Oh, yeah," Dawn half-heartedly acknowledged the observation, to which Ursula smiled.

"Trouble in paradise?" Ursula inquired.

"No." Dawn justified it wasn't lying if the relationship was over and there was no paradise at all. Before Ursula could continue nagging at Dawn's insecurities, however, Kenny approached the two and looked pointedly at Ursula.

"Hey, Drew told me to give you a message," he began coolly.

"What message?" Ursula asked.

"May is going to the Opelucid Gym this afternoon for some coaching sessions with a few trainers, using Iris, Cynthia, and Wallace as judges," Kenny explained. "He wants you to go, too, and use it as an chance to generate some hype online. Trip, Iris's photographer, will be taking pictures, and he can send them to you to put on Facebook or Tweet out."

Ursula frowned, but flicked one of her pink curls over her shoulder before asking, "What time?"

"2 p.m."

"Fine by me," she said. As Kenny turned away, however, Ursula spoke up again, continuing her taunt with a new target. "Hey, you know, I'm half-surprised you're not making a more concentrated effort to snag the spot of the rebound man. It's almost noble of you."

Kenny stopped and, blinking, glanced at her over his shoulder.

"What?" he asked, confused.

"Oh, you can't tell me this one and Paul are still together," Ursula said, flicking her head toward Dawn. Kenny became flustered, while Dawn pressed her lips together, her patience running thin.

"Fine, yes, Paul and I broke up several weeks ago," Dawn said with perceptible annoyance. "I don't know what you're trying to prove by getting me to admit that."

"Nothing, I suppose," Ursula replied lightly, falling back. "I was just curious. What happened?"

"He had a lot going on, and so did I," Dawn answered shortly.

"That's vague."

"Well, it's not your business." Dawn turned away in her chair. Ursula folded her arms and swung her weight to her left hip before casting her gaze toward Kenny, who was worriedly, perhaps even longingly, watching Dawn. She nearly laughed.

"Whatever," she dismissed. "I'm going to get lunch. I'll see you at 2 p.m."

She left, and Dawn and Kenny waited in an uncomfortable silence. Kenny wrung his hands together, looking after where Ursula had gone for a moment before returning his gaze to Dawn.

"You know, Drew might not have been far off the mark," he began when he was certain Ursula was out of earshot.

"What?" Dawn sounded and appeared wary.

"On his suspicions as to... why Barry and I were summoned to live with Paul for a couple days, and why Reggie came around," Kenny clarified.

"What do you mean?" Dawn asked.

"Barry told me: Caitlin, the Unova Elite Four member who came with us to the Team Rocket base Tuesday, is also a psychologist," Kenny went on. "It all fits together. I think it's why Paul knew who she was. In fact, it's probably why Caitlin is in Opelucid at all. He's her patient."

Dawn's eyes widened, and she pressed her fist to her mouth thoughtfully, unsure what to make of the new theory. She _did_ already suspect something was happening behind the scenes, given the string of events following her telling Leaf she suspected Paul was suffering from unseen issues—she was, however, not aware Caitlin was psychologist, and Kenny explanation as to why she might have been around made too perfect of sense for it not to be true.

"Well, I guess he and the G-Men have done a pretty good job of keeping it low key," she finally said.

Ursula rounded the corner, returning to the desk where she previously stood.

"Sorry," she said with a wry smile. "Forgot my phone."

* * *

"Nurse Joy and I were talking this morning, and she and I agree that maybe we should add Maranga berries to the diet of the Pokémon," Brock started after swallowing a bite of his sandwich. "They're nutrient-rich, and some trainers swear they fortify Pokémon against Special Attack moves."

He and Gary were seated across from each other in the Pokémon Center cafeteria, yet Gary's own meal had hardly been touched. Instead, he was hunched over some notes he had taken on his patients earlier, and he pored over every word. Yet, he cast Brock an acknowledging glance when he spoke.

"Don't Maranga berries only grow in Kalos?" Gary asked.

"Yeah, there's the rub," Brock admitted, and Gary frowned before lowering his head again to think.

"... Well, I have contacts with Professor Sycamore of Kalos, and he maintains a garden of berries for his personal research," he eventually said. "I could ask him for a sample of Maranga berries. I think we need to see if they cause any measurable improvement before we spend the money to have a lot shipped out here."

"That's reasonable." Brock nodded. Just then, Misty entered the cafeteria, sauntered up to the table, and laid her open hands on the surface, leaning toward both men. She breathed in several intended words, but Gary ended up speaking first.

"Well, look what the Skitty dragged in," he said sarcastically, though lightheartedly.

"I was looking for you two in the backend of the center," Misty said, uninterested in pursuing the tease. "I should have expected you'd be on lunch break."

Gary let out a breath and pulled back from his notes, stretching himself. It was hard on his neck and back to be hanging over his notes at uncomfortable angles for long periods of time.

"Geez, how can you stand to be back there?" he asked. "All the screaming..."

"Screaming?" Misty blinked.

"Uh, yes?" Gary gave her an odd look. "If the Pokémon aren't asleep, they're screaming or clicking or barking murder."

"I didn't hear screaming when I went back there," Misty said. Both men continued to stare at her blankly, and she amended, "Or... maybe I've just become so accustomed to it that I didn't notice. Or maybe Nurse Joy administered more sleep aids."

Gary and Brock exchanged quick, questioning glances but both eventually shrugged it off before looking back at Misty.

"What are you here for?" Gary soon asked.

"Leaf wanted to make sure you got her message," Misty said. Gary resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Yeah, I did," he grumbled. "I just haven't responded yet."

"Well, respond," Misty told him, exasperated.

"I'd rather stay here than waste time with the Mew translation," Gary replied honestly.

"Oh come on," Misty huffed.

"I know Paul means well, but I'm near-certain the mention of a 'scourge' is a coincidence," Gary said skeptically. "It's called apophenia."

"Apophenia?" Brock inquired.

"It's perceiving connections in meaningless, unrelated data," Gary explained. "Paul thinks the 'scourge' mentioned in the translation relates to the virus because the virus is on his mind."

"The 'data' isn't unrelated, though," Misty pointed out. "Mewtwo was at the Unova base, where we were looking for information on the virus. Don't laugh, but you know when Ash is involved, things have a way of—"

"—'falling perfectly into place,' yeah," Gary finished for her. "Consider this: Humans have only been around for only 200,000 years, and written language has existed for less time than that. Do you know how old that Lileep fossil was? 100 million years old. The virus predates humanity, and it definitely predates that tablet."

"Did you know how old Mew is?" Misty sassed him. "The beginning of time."

Gary was silent, begrudged she had a point, even if he was still unconvinced. Brock looked between both of them before his eyes fell to an unusual, heart-shaped pendant that hung from Misty's neck. It was something he had never seen her wear before, and he was sure of that; the rippling, luminous rainbow colors were too unique not to remember.

"Fine. I'll tell Leaf I'm coming," Gary gave in.

"Thanks." Misty turned away, but before she could leave, Brock called out to her.

"Misty, what's that around your neck?" he asked.

The question caught Misty by surprise and, turning to face him, she grasped the chain and delicately lifted the pendant away from her chest.

"This?" she inquired.

"Mhm." Brock nodded.

"A Heart Scale," she answered. "It was a gift from Ash for my 23rd birthday."

Gary let out a short laugh and said, "That's a weird gift for a totally, completely platonic relationship."

This was a tease Misty was willing to entertain, and she smiled wryly before saying, "Well, Ash and I don't have a platonic relationship." The implications of her remark surprised both men. They half-expected her to scoff and make a sarcastic or dismissive comment, but that hadn't happened.

"Wait, are you saying—?" Brock started carefully, and Misty's smile widened. Brock then grinned himself. "_Really?_"

"It hasn't been since my birthday, but Ash and I have been 'officially' together, I guess you could say, for several days," Misty confessed.

"How come neither of you said anything of this?" Gary asked, recovering.

"I mean, we agreed it's okay if we shared it with our friends, but I don't think either of us wanted to make a big deal out of telling everyone," Misty explained. "I've been wearing this for several weeks, just under clothes. I started wearing it outside of them since Tuesday."

Brock blinked and furrowed his eyebrows with thought.

"For several weeks... ?"

* * *

A respectable number had already gathered on the field and in the stands by the time Burgundy slipped inside the Opelucid Gym, and for a moment she only stood there at the entrance, unsure of what to do, or rather, where to go. She perceived that an order had already been established, and given her late arrival, she didn't think she would be able to fit in, especially since Georgia was battling and she wasn't. Yet, before Burgundy could consider leaving, Cilan noticed her arrival and left his place on the stand to see her.

"Burgundy?" he greeted with some surprise. "I didn't expect you."

Burgundy nearly frowned, unhappy she had been discovered.

"Georgia wanted me to come watch her 'fail as spectacularly' as I do whenever I battle," she mumbled dryly. Cilan held back a laugh at the remark, deciding it would come off as mean-spirited. Iris, too, noticed Burgundy had come, and she left Cynthia's side to welcome her.

"Hey Burgundy," she said amicably. "Have you come to enter the practice contest?" Burgundy drew back, suddenly self-conscious.

"No, I—"

"—You should," Iris persisted. "I think we're still looking for a eighth entrant."

Burgundy appeared unsure before casting a cautious glance toward Cilan.

"Are you practicing?" she asked him.

"I'm not." He shook his head then smiled. "I think being married to one of the judges presents a conflict of interest."

"It's just a practice round," Iris said with a roll of her eyes.

"Practice for an official event in which you will need to remain unbiased," Cilan reminded her.

"Do you think I'd honestly score you better because you're my husband?" Iris questioned him. "I'd probably score you lower."

"That's still a show of bias, dear."

Burgundy moved her gaze between them both before focusing her eyes on Georgia speaking with Trip in the middle of the field. He had a camera around his neck, and their conversation persisted only a little while longer before Trip apparently closed it up and headed back to the stands, seating himself between Ritchie and a woman with pink, curly hair.

"All right, I'll enter," Burgundy decided, surprising both Cilan and Iris, who were drawn into their banter.

"Great," Iris said with a new friendly smile, recovering. Burgundy nodded and reached into her bag, searching for one of her Pokéballs—her Samurott's, figuring he would be the best choice for a contest—and eventually pulled it out.

"I can hold onto this for you," Cilan offered, extending his arm toward her purse. She nodded and thanked him, handing it over before heading out to the field. Iris rejoined the other judges.

"About time you showed up," Georgia told Burgundy wryly when she met with the participating group, which additionally consisted of Misty, Ash, Serena, Bonnie, May, and Jessie. Burgundy became annoyed and was ready to retort, but another spoke first.

"Oh, are you practicing with us?" May inquired eagerly.

"... I guess so," Burgundy answered, letting her comeback against Georgia go.

"Wonderful!" May clapped her hands together. "Then we have eight participants total if we include myself and Jessie."

Jessie smirked and swung her hip to the right.

"Well, I guess we already know who's going to win then," she said flippantly.

"May?" Cassidy called from the sidelines. She was seated near Butch and James, who was holding onto Jayce.

"Quiet you!" Jessie shouted back at her, scowling. "It's me!"

May let out an uncomfortable laugh and tried to herd the conversation back to the matter at hand.

"Anyway..." she began carefully, "for those of you who don't know, contests are split into two rounds: the appeals round and then the battles round. Usually, the appeals cut the participants in half, but for the sake of practice, you'll all advance to the second round..."

Leaf and Paul were standing together on the sidelines, wordlessly observing the coaching session that was now underway. Yet, when the doors to the Opelucid Gym opened again and, this time, in slid Gary, Leaf nudged Paul in the side and indicated they should go. They met with Gary near the elevator managed to discreetly head inside without the exchange of any words. Iris noticed their leave and watched them, knowing what was underway.

Upstairs, the trio let themselves into Iris's office and, now finally believing they were alone, Gary turned to Paul and said with a sigh, "All right, let's see what this is about."

"What about what?"

The three perked up in alarm and saw that both Lance and Adalet were in the office, too. Lance had been the one to speak.

"Brandon sent back the translation to the Mew tablet," Leaf told him.

"That's hardly relevant," Lance dismissed, inciting Paul's ire; he had grown tired of his theory repeatedly being dismissed throughout the day.

"Neither are you, and Leaf still keeps you around," Paul muttered bitterly, and Leaf suddenly burst into a short, though loud laugh. Lance glowered at Paul first then at Leaf. Both Gary and Adalet seemed amused as well.

"Oh come on, Lance, it's funny," Leaf said when she noticed his hardened gaze. When his eyes didn't soften, she added, "Fine, if you're going to be mad, then go downstairs and watch the others practice. You too, Adalet."

This worsened Lance's mood, and Adalet's expression soon fell humorless, too.

"Of course, Madam Champion," he said, which annoyed Leaf. He was aware Leaf hated the formality, but he persisted in using it for no reason other than to irritate her. Nevertheless, he and Lance escorted themselves out of the room, and once they were gone, Leaf turned to Paul once more.

"Nicely done," she commended.

"I'm certain you only respect me when I manage to amuse you," Paul grumbled.

"Not true, but I can appreciate a well-delivered snarky comment," Leaf replied wryly, "especially when it comes to Lance, since he could use a dose of humility every now and then."

"So could you," Paul threw back, and now it was Gary's turn to laugh. Leaf appeared annoyed for only a moment before shaking it off.

"Touché," she said. Paul said nothing of this further, instead turning to Iris's desk, whereupon he had laid several papers he had printed earlier in the day.

"Here are copies of the translation," he told Leaf and Gary, handing them each a sheet. Leaf and Gary exchanged unsure, perhaps doubtful looks, but each nevertheless lowered their eyes to the printed page's paragraph below the photocopy of Mew's tablet:

[Unable to distinguish] ..._ The great creator Mew bestowed a scourge upon its children_ [All Pokémon] _granting them terrible powers that if unchecked would consume and turn them and others to darkness. It was through the compassion between humans and the children of Mew that the strength granted by the scourge could transform the children to _[Unable to distinguish]_ which could carry out the noble work of good-hearted humans and their companion children_ [Pokémon]_, for without the bonding of good hearts, there could be no transformation._ ... [Unable to distinguish]

Paul knew it wouldn't take them long to read, but he still extended a moment of further silence to them so they could chew on the words; both of their expressions were contemplative, which he knew would happen. While Leaf and Gary were an unfortunately matched pair of skeptics, Paul knew they weren't entirely stubborn and would see the similarities, too.

Soon, he asked, "Thoughts?"

Gary sighed and sat down on the sofa, laying the sheet on the table. Leaf, apparently still forming her opinion, watched him carefully in want of his influence.

"It's short, but I'll admit it's intriguing," Gary mused. "And I can see how you might think this connects to the virus. But..."

"But what?" Paul narrowed his eyes.

"I explained this to Misty earlier," Gary went on. "The Lileep that had the virus predates this tablet by millions of years. When I started my research, there was no other known pathogen that produced its effects. How would it be that for 99,996,000 years, those effects persisted, and then at some point within the past 4,000 years, they disappeared? I can't think of anything today that would so suddenly and drastically boost the power of Pokémon."

"This is your research," Paul said bluntly. "That's your question to answer."

"What would you suggest he do?" Leaf asked, finally speaking up.

"This originated with Mew, which predates the Lileep, might I add," Paul pointed out. "We don't have immediate access to Mew, but we do have access to a clone of one."

Gary let out a disbelieving chuckle.

"Are you suggesting I ask Mewtwo for a sample of his blood to test him for the virus?" he asked.

"Not you," Paul said. "Ash and Silver."

* * *

"Now, Delphox, finish it off with Will-O-Whisp!" Following an impressive display of Delphox's ethereal Fire-type powers, Delphox once again lifted its sinewy wooden wand upward, conjuring purplish flames which burned at the tip for a moment before scattering across the field, tracing fiery designs in the earthy battlefield. The appeal finished, both Delphox and her trainer, Serena, took a bow to their small, though awed audience.

"That was fantastic, Serena!" May breathed. "And you used the entire field, which always earns extra points with the judges."

Serena, still glowing with the confidence of performance but flustered under the praise, uttered a quick "thank you."

"See? What did I tell you?" Bonnie said, nudging Misty in the side. "I knew Serena would be great at this! She's already got plenty of performing experience."

"She might win the whole thing," Ash added with a grin.

"Well, we'll see how she holds in the battles," Jessie scoffed.

Meanwhile, Iris leaned toward Wallace and inquired beneath her breath, "_Do_ we award extra points if they use the entire field?"

"Yes, definitely," Wallace whispered back. "A good, passing appeal does not necessarily utilize the whole stage, but it..."

"Enhances the experience," Cynthia appended, finding the right phrase for him.

"Exactly." Wallace nodded.

Trip captured the conversation on his camera and examined the following preview image on his camera's screen: Cynthia, Wallace, and Iris sitting at the makeshift judge's table, conspiring together. He thumbed through several of the other pictures he had taken, of the participating trainers, of their Pokemon, of the appeals themselves. He paused a moment longer when he came across an image of Georgia, and Ursula leaned intrusively over his shoulder. Ritchie was eyeing both warily.

"Can you send those to me?" Ursula asked. "I want to tweet them."

"Yeah," Trip mumbled, reaching into his bag and pulling out his laptop. He plugged in his camera and downloaded the photos to a new folder he titled "CIU Practice 07-11-09." He then pulled up a browser and logged into his email account.

"Email?" he asked, looking toward Ursula. She just short of pushed him aside to type her own email into the address bar before pulling back. Trip was put off by her invasiveness, but he managed to shrug it off as he uploaded a selection of the better pictures he had taken and sent them off.

"It's yours now," he told her. Ursula nodded and pulled up her own email on her phone. She browsed through several of the pictures before deciding on the one most recently taken of the judges. She saved the selection and switched to Twitter to put out the newest message:

"Our guest judges are getting in some practice before the big contest. Are you excited for #CIUtakesNimbasaTown on July 17th?"

Ursula then returned to the email and picked out a second image—this one of Georgia—and followed the same procedure:

"Unova E4 member Georgia Hamilton is getting ready for #CIUtakesNimbasaTown. Are you? Tweet us your prep pics!"

She scheduled the latter of the two to go out fifteen minutes after the first and set her phone down for the timebeing. Ash was just then finishing an appeal with Pikachu, which Trip had still managed to photograph despite his emailing delay, and he received an impressed applause, too, for the unique combination between Pikachu's Electro Ball and Iron Tail.

Cynthia, Iris, and Wallace scored him a 24, and Ash jogged back to his seat with a grin. That was when Silver entered the gym, jolting Ash with surprise. Ash hadn't seen his brother all morning, though he had been certain he was still around—Silver left his bag in their room—and Ash wondered how Silver had learned they were at the Opelucid Gym. Ash abandoned his seat to approach him as Burgundy was beginning her appeal.

"Hey," Ash greeted at a lower volume. "Where've you been?"

"Out," Silver answered shortly, and Ash figured that meant he would never know.

"Did'ja know we're entering that contest?" Ash asked. "It might be a little late to practice _right now_, but you and I could practice later if you're interested in entering, too."

"I'll pass," Silver said plainly.

"Why?"

"You have to remember there are still people who want me dead—people who are in Team Plasma, the same people you're trying to attract," Silver explained bluntly. "I'd like to lay low."

Ash was struck by the obviousness of the answer and nodded understandingly. "Yeah, I get it," he said.

"Oh good, you're both here."

Ash and Silver turned their heads to see Paul, his hands slid into the comfort of his pockets, approaching.

"Hey Paul. What's going on?" Ash asked him.

"I need a favor from you, right now," Paul said, addressing both. "Ash, I've already told Cassidy to take your spot in the battles round. She and Jessie are raring for a fight anyway, and I'd rather it happen with Pokémon than with claws."

Ash drew back in surprise, and Silver appeared suspicious.

"... What favor?" Silver asked cautiously.

_**July 11th, 2009. Afternoon. Unknown Location.**_

Concordia's chest was tight with anxiety and pained by a rapid heartbeat as she quietly slipped down the long, red-carpeted stairway. From there, she proceeded forward through a wide hallway, with all of its velvet curtains drawn and the blinding light of day pouring inside. She passed by multiple golden-knobbed doors, yet, her gaze was focused straight ahead at the bright white sealed entrance to where Ghetsis and others had vanished after returning from... wherever they were.

Holding her breath—hearing the screams she'd heard every night—Concordia reached for one of the two door handles, but her wrist was caught by a larger, calloused hand, and with its grasp, she was turned to the dark, storming eyes of her father.

"What are you doing here?" Ghetsis demanded in a low voice.

"I'm sorry, father, I—" Concordia tried to shrink back, but his grip was firm.

"—I forbade you and your siblings to come to the corridor," he told her angrily. "Colress is engaged in important work, and I will not have your childish curiosity interrupt him."

"Childish?" Concordia's deference briefly turned to indignance, and she wrenched her hand away from his. "Father, I am not a child, but a woman."

"You are a child, because you came here against my orders." The fire in Ghetsis's eyes burned still, and Concordia drew back and cast her eyes down, wanting no further trouble.

"I know," she said quietly. "I'm sorry."

Ghetsis remained unmoved.

"Go, now," he ordered her, and Concordia nodded, her eyes still turned toward the ground, as she returned down the hallways and up the stairs. When she was certain she was out of his sight, though, her eyes heated with resentful tears, and, gripping her skirt, she broke into a run. She made her way up through several more stairways and down another hallway at this pace, and she eventually threw open a door and slammed it behind her, breathless. Anthea and N perked up in alarm.

"Concordia, what's the matter?" N asked, noticing the thin streaks of graying water down her face. Concordia heaved in another breath and swallowed.

"N, do you truly think yourself a prince?" she asked with a warbled, though bitter voice.

"Pardon me?" N asked, disturbed by the question.

"What prince is told he cannot explore his own castle?" Concordia continued, growing more angry as she spoke. "What prince is treated like a prisoner by those who are meant to follow him? Is he truly a prince revered, or is he a pawn for some unknown motive?"

"Concordia, what are you saying?" Anthea asked, just as unnerved as her brother. Concordia's bottom lip quivered for a moment, but she steeled herself, and her expression fell flat.

"Nothing," she murmurred. "I'm saying nothing." She brushed a piece of her blonde hair behind her ear. "Excuse me."

She moved past her siblings and into her and Anthea's shared bedroom, where she fell to her bed. She backed toward the wall and brought her legs closer to herself, her arms sullenly folding as she descended into thought. It wasn't long before Anthea's frame appeared in the door, and she observed her sister for a moment before sitting beside her on the bed, leaning toward her with concern.

"We are not normal," Concordia said with a stringing voice, before Anthea could speak.

"Well, of course not," Anthea said with a reassuring tone, though Concordia was not at all reassured. "Father has always said we were special. N, in particular, is special. N was chosen to lead the charge in freeing all Pokémon from oppression, and he's started by revealing the true nature of the G-Men to the public."

Concordia, her eyes still red with salt, stared, and Anthea frowned.

"I don't understand," Anthea said achingly. "What's the matter? What's bothering you so much?"

Concordia averted her gaze.

"Ghetsis has spoken of the true, dark nature of Pokémon training under the league and the G-Men," she mumbled. "He said that's why they're so secretive. People who keep secrets, people who conceal the truth—they are not to be trusted. Yet, I fear we have secrets of our own here."

"Secrets here?" Anthea inquired, confused. Concordia straightened up.

"I must know what Colress is doing," she declared.

Anthea remained befuddled by her sister's strange, unbecoming behavior, but she slowly nodded anyway and said, "We'll find out."

_**July 11th, 2009. Afternoon. Opelucid City.**_

The appeals had ended long ago, and now, they were on the edge of determining the victor.

The first match-up was between "Jessilina" and May, and May had defeated her with relative ease (to which Jessie grumbled she was merely "rusty" after being seven years out of practice). Cassidy had been delighted in her rival's failure to advance, but was quickly destroyed herself at the hands of Georgia. While well-fought, Serena had managed to knock out Bonnie, and the skilled Misty had taken down Burgundy. In the second advancement, May and Misty went head-to-head in a heated battle, but May, the more experienced coordinator, had ultimately emerged victorious, while the type advantage Serena and her Delphox had over Georgia and Beartic clinched them a difficult win.

That left the final battle: May versus Serena, and the conflict was shaping up to be a fiery one.

"Blaziken, use Blaze Kick!"

Delphox barely managed to escape her opponent's powerful leg and fell to the ground, costing her and Serena further points. Although Delphox's Psychic-type abilities could seriously impact Blaziken, half a Fighting-type, Delphox simply could not keep up with Blaziken's astounding speed and could hardly land any attacks. It was visibly frustrating for Serena; Delphox was her closest companion and most well-trained Pokémon, yet May and her Blaziken had them in circles despite a type disadvantage.

"Then use Fire Spin!" May, not one to waste an opportunity, issued a second order, and that was the end. The hit drained Serena's points to zero, ending the battle. May's points, on the other hand, barely had a dent in them.

Serena sighed, disappointed, but her mood quickly sprung up again with a smile as she thanked her Delphox and returned her to her Pokéball. May did the same with Blaziken.

"I think it's clear why you're a renowned Top Coordinator," Serena commended, meeting May in the middle of the field. "I barely stood a chance."

"Don't say that," May said with a wave of her hand. "Coordinating is incredibly subjective. On a different day, the scores might have been completely reversed. I think you having experience as a Pokémon Performer definitely helps you."

"Yeah," Bonnie agreed, bounding up to the two from the sidelines. "Serena, you could win the whole thing on the 17th!"

"Well, I'll do my best," Serena said with a faint smile. She then addressed May once more. "Thank you for being our teacher."

"It was my pleasure!" May replied cheerily. "I enjoy teaching a lot."

Wallace, who was leaving the table with the other judges to commend May for her win, suddenly hesitated upon hearing this. Iris pressed forward, however, to also thank her, saying, "It really was a huge help to have you here, leading us in the procedures for a contest. It helped me, at least."

"Do you feel better prepared to officially judge?" Cilan inquired, approaching.

"Better prepared, yes." Iris nodded.

"Well, like I said: It was my pleasure," May repeated. She paused and then added, "Anyway, I should be going. Drew texted me earlier, and he wants to meet up with me again."

"The ever-concerned husband material strikes again," Georgia mumbled, causing May to flush pink. By then, nearly everyone, including most of the spectators, had gathered at the middle of the field. Georgia soon continued, "I should leave, too." She glanced back at Burgundy, Trip, and Ritchie. "So unless there's some business here, I'm shoving off."

"I'm ready to go," Burgundy mumbled.

"Will you be entering the real contest on the 17th?" Cilan inquired.

"Maybe," she answered vaguely, though it was obvious her loss had deterred her.

"I'll convince her," Georgia said flippantly before fixating her eyes on Ritchie and Trip. "And you two?"

"Yeah, I'm ready to go, too," Ritchie said with a nod, and Trip agreed.

"Then we're off!" Georgia turned with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Come on, folks! The circus wagon is leaving."

"Bye," Iris mumbled dryly. Further words of parting were exchanged before the group split asunder, and Iris headed toward the elevator with her fellow judges and Cilan. Winona, who was in the stands, also rose to her feet and followed to join her husband. The Team Rocket clan appeared entirely unsure of what to do, as usual, and they came to a mumbled agreement that they should return to the Pokémon Center for the night.

Serena and Misty both had something else in mind, however, and a silent, shared glance said they both felt it. Misty caught up with Iris and inquired, "Hey, about earlier—do you know where Ash and Silver went?"

"I don't." Iris shook her head. "I'm going to find out now, if you want to join us."

"Please," Misty said, indicating that Serena and Bonnie should come, too. "Is this about the tablet?"

"I would guess so, but I really have no idea," Iris admitted.

"That Mew tablet?" Bonnie inquired as the group stepped into the elevator together.

"Paul received a translation back from his father this morning," Cynthia expanded.

"Oh..." Bonnie's eyes widened slightly, and she seemed intrigued.

Upstairs, Lance and Adalet had already returned to the office after their temporary banishment, and Gary had left to continue his work at the Pokémon Center. Paul and Leaf, however, had stayed behind. Paul's eyes boredly scanned through the pages of _The Symbiosis Between Pokémon and Humans_, while Leaf was on her phone. Evidently, some conversation between Paul, Leaf, Lance, and Adalet had taken place earlier, preventing any from returning to watch the contest below and fostering the uncomfortable silence that now lingered in the air. As soon as the others filed into the room however, Leaf snapped her head up and rose to her feet.

"Final outcome?" she inquired.

"May went up against Serena in the final round," Misty said, gesturing toward Serena as she spoke. Paul raised her eyebrows.

"Was there an upset?" he asked.

"No, no," Serena answered with a weak smile. "May handily won."

"Well, don't let it get you down," Leaf dismissed. "She might not look it, but May's an exceptional trainer. She could give me, Paul, or Iris a run for our titles, if she wanted." Paul cast her a cautious glance, his gaze narrowing. It then flicked toward Wallace, giving him the same look. Leaf continued, "That, and her being a class coordinator gives her an edge of experience."

"What happened to Ash?" Misty asked, changing the topic to get straight to the point. "I saw Paul come downstairs and talk to both him and Silver, and then they left."

"Ah, right." Leaf clicked her tongue. "That." She turned and picked up a sheet of paper before facing the larger group again. "Paul's father returned a translation of the Mew tablet today. Let me read you it, and then you tell me if it sounds like anything you know." She paused again, as if for dramatic effect, before continuing, "'The great creator Mew bestowed a scourge upon all Pokémon, granting them terrible powers that if unchecked would consume and turn them and others to darkness. It was through the compassion between humans and the children of Mew that the strength granted by the scourge could transform the children to'—Brandon left a note here saying he was unable to distinguish what was said here, but whatever it was, it could 'carry out the noble work of good-hearted humans and their companion Pokémon, for without the bonding of good hearts, there could be no transformation.'"

Paul's eyes watched the others' expressions carefully, waiting for confirmation of his own theory; he knew he had, surprisingly, won over Leaf with it, albeit unwillingly, but it would strengthen the theory's credence to have further agreement.

Cilan ended up being the first to speak.

"Interesting," he mused. "It sounds similar to..." He trailed off, unsure of himself.

"The virus," Iris, already having heard Paul's theory, finished for him, and Cilan nodded. Cynthia pressed her lips together in thought, but said nothing. Serena blinked and tried to catch to Bonnie's gaze, but when she did, the teen only smiled, oblivious to whatever Serena was trying to communicate.

"That's what I thought, too," Paul spoke up. "I asked Ash and Silver to get a blood sample from Mewtwo, so Gary could see whether he tests positive for the virus."

"What would that prove?" Misty asked cautiously.

"That the virus was around as short as 4,000 years ago," Leaf answered, "and maybe it could be a lead to finding a treatment. I wouldn't say Mewtwo is friendly to humans, but he isn't after our blood like how other infected Pokémon are."

"That could be a mere consequence of the kind of power Mewtwo holds," Wallace pointed out. "He is modeled after a Legendary Pokémon. His capacity for control would arguably be greater than that of, say, a Purrloin."

"There is that," Leaf conceded.

"Isn't it also true that—at least, according to Gary's theory—the reason why Pokémon react so negatively to the virus is because they don't have the contemporary immunity for it?" Cynthia recalled skeptically.

"There is also that," Leaf gave in further.

"But it would be a start, still," Paul defended. "Gary will tell you himself there is a lot he doesn't know about the virus. The more we know, the better."

"True," Cynthia tacitly agreed with a quick nod.

"When will they be back?" Misty asked.

"I don't know," Leaf admitted. "When they find him and get what they need."

"So it could be a while," Bonnie concluded, folding her arms. "... Well, in that case—" She suddenly grinned and spun toward Serena and Misty. "—let's head back to the Pokémon Center. I haven't seen my brother practically all day, and without me around, he probably hasn't eaten."

"... All right," Misty tentatively agreed. "I haven't eaten in a while either, so going somewhere would be great."

Serena, perhaps surprisingly, appeared more hesitant; she looked as though she had something to say but was unsure whether to say it or not. Iris noticed this and watched her with careful eyes. Ultimately, however, Serena gave in and said, "Yeah, it would be nice to go out with Clemont."

"I've been trying to get you to say that for _years_," Bonnie said cheekily, and Serena glowered at her. "Anyway, come on! I'm starving myself." She pulled Serena with her out the door, and Misty waved goodbye to the others. Bonnie eventually let go of Serena and cheerily ambled back down the hallway toward the elevator, and Serena dragged behind both her and Misty. She perked up, however, when she heard a voice from behind.

"Hey!" Iris had jogged to catch up, and when she met Serena face-to-face, she asked, "Are you okay?"

"Oh, I'm fine!" Serena said quickly. "Did I do something that made you think otherwise?"

"You looked like something was bothering you in there," Iris said honestly, which drew out the same trepidated expression Serena had worn earlier. She wrung her hands together and averted her eyes, questioning herself again, but eventually looked back to the Unova Champion.

"I think that translation does, in some ways, sounds similar to the virus, but..."

"But what?" Iris prodded her.

"Maybe I'm thinking too much about it, but it sounded more like Mega Evolution to me," Serena finally said, and Iris drew back in surprise.

"Mega Evolution?" she inquired.

"Don't you know about it?" Serena paused and shyly pointed to the necklace Iris wore, the pearl-like jewelry piece with silver Noivern wings. "That—what you're wearing now—it's a key stone." This revelation caught Iris off guard, and she looked at Serena with wide eyes.

"_This_ is a key stone?" Iris asked incredulously, lifting the pendant.

"Yeah." Serena nodded. "At least, I'm pretty sure. It looks like one. The rainbow ripples..."

"It was a gift from Diantha," Iris informed her.

"That would make sense," Serena said. "Diantha is capable of Mega Evolving her own Pokémon. She and Professor Sycamore, they know each other. Sycamore researches Mega Evolution. It's been around for, supposedly, thousands of years, but the knowledge of Mega Evolution and how to Mega Evolve Pokémon was lost—until Professor Sycamore started his research."

Iris considered Serena's words before examining her own pendant again. She then thoughtfully started, "I know what Mega Evolution is. I mean, at least, I've heard of it before. I guess I just never realized this was connected to it." Iris paused, dropped the pendant from her hand so it swung from her neck again, then continued, "Paul said he and Leaf received similar gifts from Diantha... I wonder why they wouldn't have thought that translation sounded similar to Mega Evolution..."

This statement further weakened Serena's confidence in her own theory, and she said, "I'm probably wrong. It's just that Mega Evolution is a big thing in Kalos right now, which is why I thought of it."

"Hey, Serena!" Bonnie poked her head out the elevator door, shouting up the hallway. "We're holding the door for you!"

"Coming!" Serena called back before looking at Iris again. "I have to go."

"Okay." Iris then added, almost as an afterthought, "Great job in the contest."

"Thank you," Serena replied with a small smile before catching up with the others. When she disappeared from view, Iris stood unmoved in thought for a while. Then, she slowly, stiffly, turned around and headed back to her office.

* * *

"You know, I was going to say, if you did well today, that you should just ditch the connoisseur thing entirely and become a coordinator," Georgia remarked aloud to Burgundy, who occupied the front passenger seat beside Georgia, "but those darn battles sure do weigh you down, huh?"

Burgundy shot Georgia an annoyed look at the rib, and Ritchie and Trip, the back-row passengers, exchanged unsure glances.

"You're probably the worst friend I've ever had," Burgundy mumbled half-heartedly, though Georgia remained unperturbed.

"Best and worst," Georgia quipped. "If I'm your only, then I'm also your best."

"Sure," Burgundy said bitterly, and Georgia frowned. She pulled into Burgundy's apartment complex and stopped in front of her building. As soon as Georgia rolled the car to a stop, Burgundy pushed open the door, grumbled a "thanks," then slammed it behind her. Georgia watched Burgundy leave warily, waiting until she at least made it inside. When she did, Georgia let out an audible, exasperated sigh.

"Geez," she said, throwing her head back.

"What's going on?" Ritchie asked with concern.

"Burgundy's been in a mood lately," Georgia said, accelerating again. "Not without reason. What happened to Karina has affected her in a bad way, so she's been really touchy. She's the type of person, though, where if I stop teasing her, she'll get mad because I'm treating her differently, but if I continue teasing her, she'll get mad anyway because she's really sensitive right now. It's a lose-lose."

Georgia made her way to the main road again, and silence persisted for a short while before she, addressing Ritchie, asked, "So, am I taking you to the Pokémon Center?"

"No, actually," Ritchie answered. "I've been staying with Trip for the past couple of days, ever since Silver came back."

"Right." Georgia clicked her tongue and turned left, toward Trip's apartment. No further words were exchanged during the trip, though Trip's gaze was fixated on Georgia, whose eyes, which Trip could see in the rearview mirror, became glazed with thought. Meanwhile, Ritchie's own gaze paid particular attention to Trip, though it occasionally moved to Georgia, too.

When Georgia made it to Trip's apartment and shifted the car into park, no one moved. Yet, Ritchie eventually noticed Georgia's pointed gaze on him, reflected in the same mirror which Trip had been watching, and he realized he was now unwelcome.

"Thanks for the ride," he told her, slipping out of the car. "I'll wait for you, Trip." Trip nodded to him, and once he was away, he lifted his eyes toward Georgia, who was, with little discretion, watching him over her shoulder.

"Are you going to be okay?" he asked.

"Yeah." Georgia raised an eyebrow. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because you and Burgundy are fighting?" Trip said it as though it were something she needed to remember, something obvious.

"We're not fighting. We're coping," Georgia mumbled. She paused before craning her neck to look at him more fully, and she asked, "So what's next for you?"

"I'm probably going to go down to Nuvema Town in the morning," Trip replied.

"How long will you be there?"

"Until the contest," Trip answered in brief. Georgia nodded with understanding.

"In that case, I'll see you then," she said. Trip realized that, somewhere in this conversation, he had begun drifting forward, closer to her, and he quickly pulled back. Offense mixed with disappointment blinked in Georgia's eyes, but she managed to keep her expression even.

"Yeah," Trip said, sliding to the door. "Thanks." He left in a hurry to catch up with Ritchie. Georgia let out a disbelieving breath and shook her head.

"What a dweeb," she scoffed.

* * *

"Mewtwo!" The cry echoed through the darkness, circling around the jagged edges of the tunnels that sprawled ahead, but there was no answer.

Gary's Umbreon, which had been borrowed for the trip, cast an odd look toward Ash, who had been calling the same name over and over again for a while by then. Umbreon's yellow rings glowed radiantly in the cave, the walls of which were lined with packs of ice crystals that shimmered like gold in the light the Dark-type offered. Silver followed close behind his brother and Umbreon, casting his eyes about the area. Ash stood firm for a while, still waiting, but eventually, he sighed and drew his arms around himself.

"This place is so cold," he said, and Pikachu nuzzled his chilled cheek upon the remark. It was summer, and yet, they could see their own breath.

"It used to house Kyurem," Silver reminded him. "He's long since left. I'd leave, too, if humans attacked and overcame me in my territory."

Silver couldn't tell whether Ash had heard him at all, for he didn't acknowledge the statement in word or expression. Instead, he cupped his mouth again and cried "Mewtwo!" for the unempth time. For whatever reason, this was the one time the call was answered, as Umbreon yelped and spun around, growling. Mewtwo had appeared behind them, standing high above them all.

"Knock it off, Umbreon," Silver grumbled, and the Dark-type, while calming himself, also looked at the trainer who was not his own with contempt.

"Ah, we've been looking for you!" Ash exclaimed, moving forward. He then hesitated, adding, "I mean, I guess that's obvious... since I was calling your name... anyway..."

"_What do you need?_" Mewtwo asked flatly, evidently displeased he had been disturbed.

"Er, I know this is gonna sound weird," Ash began cautiously, "and maybe it's asking a lot of you, but, we just need a _little_ bit of your blood."

"_I will not go into the city,_" Mewtwo said right away.

"We know." Silver stepped forward, too, reached into his bag to reveal he had a makeshift kit made to draw blood. "We have the tools to take it now. Gary gave them to me and taught me how to do it, as if I didn't already know."

"_What do you need it for?_" Mewtwo asked suspiciously. "_Another copy?_"

"No! No, no." Ash waved his hand frantically. "Nothing like that. ... It's just, that tablet we found in the Team Rocket base, there was something in the translation of it that made us suspicious."

"_Of what?_"

"We want to know if you're a carrier of the Pokérus," Silver answered. "There's a possibility your predecessor was a carrier."

"_How would determining if I'm a carrier help your cause?_" Mewtwo remained mistrustful.

"Well, it seems any Pokémon with the Pokérus just goes crazy with trying to kill people," Ash explained, "and we're not sure how to stop it yet. You haven't tried to kill us, though, so if you're a carrier, then maybe you would have the answer to how we can help other Pokémon."

"_I no longer try to kill you,_" Mewtwo corrected. "_There was a time I intended to exact destruction upon humanity._"

"A sign of the virus," Silver pointed out. "If you're a carrier, we want to know what changed."

"_I can tell you that._" Mewtwo's eyes fixated upon Ash, who drew back in surprise. "_It was him._"

* * *

Iris,

My sincerest congratulations and best wishes go to you as  
you take on this new position of leadership. I am sorry I  
could not be there for your inauguration. While we have  
regrettably never met, I have heard much of you from your  
predecessor, and I have great faith your future and the  
future of your people.

Enclosed is a key stone, an essential piece of enacting Mega  
Evolution. I do not have a Mega Stone for you, unlike your  
friends Leaf and Paul, as you have trained no Pokémon who,  
to our limited knowledge, are capable of such a feat. Do not  
let the lack of a Mega Stone deter you, however. I firmly  
believe there are many secrets to Mega Evolution yet to be  
unlocked; there are Pokémon, I know, who can Mega Evolve,  
even without a stone. As a reader of the hearts of Dragons,  
perhaps you will discover them.

Diantha

It was night now, and hours had passed since most everyone had left the gym and retired to bed. Yet, Iris sat up in her own office, lit only by a waning moon visible from the window that stretched behind her. A torn envelope laid on her desk, and beside it was a textured card with the word "_félicitations_" printed in purple on it. She had read the fine calligraphic handwriting contained inside two, three, maybe even four times, pondering each word. Now, however, her hand was outstretched before her, and in her rested laid her key stone, its rainbow colors pale though distinguishable even in the night.

"Iris?" Iris lifted her eyes when her husband called her name. Cilan stood in the doorway, watching her with apprehension. "What are you doing up still? Come to bed; it's been a long day."

"I was looking for something," Iris said plainly, lowering her hand.

"What?" he inquired.

"This." Iris lifted the torn envelope and card. "It was the card Diantha left for me. I'd meant to read it forever ago, but it never happened until now."

"What did it say?" Cilan asked.

"Nothing much, really," Iris said with a shrug. She then stayed silent for a moment before quietly saying, "I need to talk to her."

"I'm sure Leaf could help you there," Cilan offered.

"I don't want to ask Leaf." Iris shook her head. "I want to talk to Diantha before I talk to the others."

Cilan seemed to understand. Whatever conclusions his wife was trying to draw, they both knew it might be better for her to confirm her own beliefs before approaching the others on it. They lived in a sharp time; alternative theories were met with skepticism for fear they would distract them and waste precious time and, therefore, precious lives.

"Well..." Cilan began carefully, "Cress _does_ have a contact with Siebold, a Water-type specialist on the Kalos Elite Four."

"He does?" Iris perked up.

"Cress visited Kalos a couple years ago on the business of the PCA and—well, anyway, Siebold and Diantha are friends, and I imagine Siebold would help you get in contact with her if Cress asked him," Cilan said.

"You really think so?"

"Certainly." Cilan nodded.

"Would you ask him?" Iris half-pleaded.

"I will, in the morning," Cilan agreed. Despite the several yards the separated them, he extended his arm toward her, an invitation. "But we should sleep first."

Iris pressed her lips together, wanting to protest that she couldn't possibly sleep with a dozen thoughts now swirling in her head. Yet, she ultimately decided it was useless anyway. Cress was likely asleep, and arranging an opportunity to speak with the busy Kalosian Champion on such short notice was unrealistic. Thus, she rose to her feet with a nod and approached him, slipping her hand into the reassurance of his.

* * *

Clemont briefly lowered his glasses to rub his tiring eyes before once again picking up a clear bottle, filled to the brim with a thick bonding agent, and pressed its tip to the shield of one of his own kennels. Although their walls were considered a sturdy material, the constant assault by the Pokémon they contained could create cracks that demanded repair. It seemed any safety measure he took would eventually be overcome by the sheer will of the infected.

"Hey." Clemont jolted when someone touched his shoulder, and he glanced behind him to see it was Brock, who continued, "It's late. You should get some rest."

"Yeah, I will." Clemont nodded before looking back toward the kennel. "I just want to finish this one up."

Most of the infected, by then, had gone to sleep, but one—and it took them some searching heads to discover it was the Buneary—started screaming without warning and wildly headbutted against the walls of its kennel. They watched her with wide eyes. Even though it had been weeks since their first exposure to this behavior, they had yet to become desensitized to it.

And perhaps it was better that way. The horror of it drove them forward with desperation.

"That one's rowdy," Brock remarked.

"Her kennel is going to need repairs, too," Clemont sighed.

"She hates me in particular, because I'm always the one prodding her." Gary suddenly appeared, and they realized his presence must have been what set the Buneary off.

"Hey, Gary," Brock greeted, unaware the young researcher was still awake. "What's going on?"

"To be frank, I'm in awe," Gary admitted.

"In awe?" Brock inquired.

"Paul was right. Mewtwo has the virus," Gary said.

"Excuse me?" Clemont looked unsettled. He had been away working for so long that no one had informed of the lead with Mewtwo, and even when Bonnie and the others retrieved him for dinner, they did not bring it up. Brock, on the other hand, straightened up with eyebrows raised.

"The translation of the Mew tablet revealed something that sounded similar to the virus, so Ash and Silver retrieved a sample of Mewtwo's blood," Gary explained. "I tested it. It's positive. He's a carrier of the virus."

"A c-carrier?" Clemont stammered, adjusting his glasses. "How would he have it?"

"I don't know." Gary shook his head. "Born with it, I guess. We think maybe the original Mew had it, and it was inadvertently duplicated when he was created. It changes things, though. It definitely changes things. This virus isn't something that just existed hundreds of millions years ago. It's much more recent than we would have ever thought... and maybe there _is_ some form of it out there that still exists." Buneary had another loud fit in his cage, and when it subsided, Gary repeated, "I don't know."

Brock pressed his hand thoughtfully to his chin.

"Maybe—" he started, but he was cut short when Buneary started with a third violent tantrum. This time, however, she managed to break the latch that safely contained her, and Gary was her first target.

Gary swore and managed to dive out of the way, and Buneary missed his head. Yet, Gary was on the ground now, and Buneary launched at him with a spring in her foot. Gary caught her shoulders by his hands, and she snapped at his wrists with her two front teeth. He threw her off of him, only for her to charge at him again, but Clemont whipped out one of his Pokéballs and enlarged it.

"Magneton, go!" He sent the Electric-type forward. "Use Thunderbolt!"

Gary kicked Buneary off his feet before the jagged line of electricity could hit them both, and Buneary let out a screech that caused all three men to wince at the awful sound. The assault ended, and Buneary fell to the ground, twitching. Gary staggered to his feet.

"Brock, get the tranquilizer," he ordered, knowing it would only be so long before Buneary went on the offense again. Brock nodded and hurried off. Buneary tried to stand again, putting Gary and Clemont both on high alert—but before she could lift her head and show the violet murder in her eyes, her entire body began to glow in the dim light before erupting into a white-hot blaze, and Clemont's breath caught.

"She's..." he began with shock in his voice. He form changed, and the light she emanated fizzled away to reveal a Lopunny now standing before them. Her killer instincts and strengths renewed, she again slowly turned toward Gary, who fell back. Before she could make her move, however, her pupils suddenly shrunk, and she fell forward, revealing a dart in her back. Brock, the one who had put it into her, let out a shaky breath.

"That was too close," he panted.

"Yeah," Clemont agreed, wiping his brow. Gary, however, said nothing as he sunk to the floor again, and at first, Clemont only believed he was merely regathering himself after such a close call. Then Clemont saw him clutch his ankle, and something red began to seep through his fingers.

"Oh no." Clemont paled. "Oh no, oh no." He hurried toward Gary and dropped to his side. A closer look only made Clemont feel ill.

"Stop it," Gary snarled. "Stop saying that."

Brock was initially confused, but then realization struck.

"Arceus, Gary, did she get you?" he asked, aghast.

"Yeah," Gary mumbled. He lifted his pant leg to reveal the tears she had made at his skin. "She latched onto my ankle right before Magneton hit her with Thunderbolt."

Clemont dipped his face into his hands, shaking, prepared to bemoan that it was all his fault for not being fast enough with his orders. The more collected, though still rattled Brock came over and knelt on the other side of Gary, examining the wound.

"We have to tell—" he started, but Gary cut him.

"—No," Gary said abruptly. "I know what you're going to say, and no."

Silence fell as reality began to sink in. Gary pulled his pant leg down and grasped the wound with his hands once more. He leaned his head onto his knee, shivering with dread, trying to find some sense again, trying to find some words to say. Clemont and Brock watched him apprehensively, until Gary lifted his blank, though strangely determined eyes up again.

"Leaf can't know about this," he spoke with a firm voice.

"Gary..." Brock started gently, but Gary refused to have it.

"Let me repeat myself: Leaf _cannot_ know about this. No one can," he said in a dark, warning tone. "Don't breathe a word. Don't even breathe the _edge_ of a word."

.

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	26. XXV: In Which Steven Weighs In

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Chapter XXV: In Which Steven Weighs In

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**July 16th, 2009. Middle of the night. Opelucid City.**

Iris, drained as the nighttime hours dwindled away, pressed her fingers to her fatigued eyes and sank lower in her chair. She was situated near the video phone she and Cilan kept in a secluded corner of their home, and they were waiting. Cilan himself was seated in a chair parallel to hers with his withering gaze half-occupied with a copy of _The Symbiosis Between Pokémon and Humans_. He occasionally would pause unenthusiastic reading to check his phone for the time but otherwise did little of note. Iris did nothing at all.

Eventually, she straightened herself up again and, with a fading voice, said, "This time difference is killing me."

"It would certainly be less taxing if she called before the afternoon in Kalos time," Cilan mused, turning a page. "It can't be helped, though. She's in the middle of filming, so her schedule is inflexible."

"Mm," Iris hummed in agreement, but she said nothing further. Something in her tone intrigued Cilan, so he lifted his eyes toward her, examining her through the rims of his glasses.

"Would you rather I stay or go?" he asked, and Iris, her mind torpid from exhaustion, looked at him with confusion. He clarified, "For your conversation, I mean."

Iris blinked, processing; then, she hesitated.

"Um..." she started, unsure. Despite the chain of favors Cilan had set into motion for her benefit, Iris had actually told him little of why she wanted to speak with Diantha. He had stayed up with her, though, perhaps partially through investment and partially through a spousal sense of duty—this was not the first time they had sat with each other through late nights—yet, she had not considered whether his presence would be welcomed in her meeting.

Sensing her uncertainty, Cilan pulled back and shut his textbook.

"I just remembered—" he started graciously, rising to his feet. "—I have some papers to grade before class tomorrow." In truth, Cilan had no papers to grade, and if he did, he would have finished them long before then. Iris knew this, and she felt a sting of guilt despite him giving no indication he was upset by his removal.

When he was gone, Iris let out an audible sigh and let her face fall to her hand. She then stared ruefully at the video phone for a while, beginning to wonder whether Diantha had forgotten or had become occupied with other matters. Yet, almost as if it were an answer, the screen of the video phone bloomed white, and the speakers emitted a pitchy ring, causing Iris to nearly fall out of her seat in surprise. Quickly regathering herself, Iris scrambled to answer, pausing only a moment to suck in her breath before hitting the button to receive the call.

A grainy image of the Kalos Champion appeared, and with her came digitally warbled greetings of "_Hello, can you hear me?_" Iris opened her mouth to reply, but it was then that the video feed came into focus and the sound became clear, and Diantha spoke again.

"_Hello, Ms. Ajagara? Are you able to hear and see me me well?_" Her voice was beautifully thick with the sound of her language, moreso than the other Kalosian natives Iris knew.

"I—I can!" Iris answered; a small surge of adrenaline had rendered her breathless, but only for a moment. "Can you hear and see me?"

"_I can._"

"Good! Good..." Iris rubbed her hands together nervously. "Thank you for talking to me. I know you have a very busy schedule."

"_It is a pleasure,_" Diantha kindly assured her. "_May I ask, though: For what do you need to speak with me?_"

"Um..." Iris grasped for the right way to start this conversation. What Diantha had written could have been nothing more than conjecture, and Iris knew her inquiry could leave them both embarrassed if it came down to that. "Your card..."

"_My card?_" Diantha blinked.

"Yeah." Iris fumbled for the pendant, the pearl with rainbow whips and silver wings, hanging from her neck and showed it to Diantha. "This—this is a key stone, right?"

"_Oh, yes._" Diantha nodded, now remembering.

"Key stones are a part of Mega Evolution." Iris recapitulated her own limited knowledge. "Could you... tell me more about it? I've heard you know a lot about it."

"_Ah, Mega Evolution._" Diantha'a eyes lit up at the mention. "_Yes, I know some—my partner, Gardevoir, and I have tapped into its power for years now._"

"Mm, your Gardevoir is capable of Mega Evolution, right?" Iris asked.

"_Yes, she is._" Diantha smiled; this was evidently a topic dear to her. "_I'm sure you've also heard that, traditionally, Mega Evolution requires both a key stone and a Mega Stone in order to activate, correct?_" Iris nodded, and Diantha continued, "_Well, there's another part of Mega Evolution that's less known but just as important, if not more._"

Iris leaned closer to the screen, intrigued.

"_You see,_" Diantha continued, "_the relationship between the trainer and the Pokémon is truly what enables Mega Evolution to take place. There must be love there; there must be trust. It's strange, and sad, to see trainers venture from all over the world to Kalos to learn the secrets of Mega Evolution in the pursuit of power—but they can never achieve it, because they do not revere their Pokémon with the compassion that is necessary to bring that power forward._"

"There are only certain Pokémon who can Mega Evolve though, right?" Iris pressed.

"_There are only certain Pokémon who know can evolve with the use of a Mega Stone,_" Diantha corrected. "_There is little research into the fact, but I firmly believe all Pokémon have the ability to Mega Evolve; we just haven't discovered the formula for it. Many aren't aware, but Mega Evolution has existed for thousands of years Yet, there came period in human history where we lost the knowledge of how to Mega Evolve Pokémon, but with researchers like Professor Sycamore, we are now rediscovering it._"

This was exactly what Iris was hoping to hear, and, feeling more bold, she asked, "Then, what you wrote in your card... You believe it's true Pokémon can evolve without a Mega Stone?"

"_I do._" Diantha nodded.

"What gives you that idea?" Iris asked.

"_Personal experience,_" Diantha answered. A wry, knowing look briefly glazed over her eyes. "_My Gardevoir is known for her ability to Mega Evolve, but I have seen another of my Pokémon Mega Evolve._"

Iris drew back in surprise.

"Which one?" she asked.

"_My Aurorus,_" Diantha replied.

"That's..."

"_Not a Pokémon that has a Mega Stone, I know._" Diantha smiled again and leaned back into her chair. "_A story: Aurorus is an original revival, meaning he is not a Pokémon bred from a parent or grandparent who was revived from a fossil using Silph's technology. He was brought back from a fossil discovered in Glittering Cave, but he entered this world a little... consternated, shall we say?_"

"Consternated?" Iris questioned.

"_You'll find, sometimes, that previously fossilized Pokémon are disoriented after their rebirth, and that can cause some trouble,_" Diantha explained. "_Aurorus was one of them. When he was regenerated, he was so agitated that he launched into a rage through Ambrette Town, which I happened to be visiting at the time. The poor researchers at the fossil lab were overwhelmed and couldn't stop him alone, so I helped push him out of the town and back into Glittering Cave—and that's where something amazing happened._

"_The other trainers who were with me, who were helping me, they were frustrated—understandably so—but their plan was to bring Aurorus into submission through battle, and I—_" Diantha paused, her eyes grow hazy with the memory. "_—I saw that Aurorus was afraid. And so, I insisted the others remain behind and that I be alone with Aurorus. They hesitated, but they eventually obliged. I was able to talk to Aurorus then, show him I cared._

"_He did attack me, initially. When I tried to pet him, he snapped at my hand__—broke some bones, drew some blood. Yet, I didn't back down, and that was what made the difference. There was a change in him, and he became penitent for what he had done. Sh__ortly after our reconciliation, we were attacked by an Onix upon whose territory we had trespassed. Aurorus, now firmly protective of me, confronted him, and to my shock, I felt my key stone react. Aurorus Mega Evolved. I was so shocked—I hadn't known a Pokémon like Aurorus could Mega Evolve. We escaped unharmed thanks to Aurorus's bravery, and he agreed to join my party. I immediately visited Professor Sycamore to relay my experience to him, and he was equally surprised. He theorized there must have been a Mega Stone for Aurorus in Glittering Cave, a type of Mega Stone we were not aware existed. We searched and searched but could find no such stone._

"_We were baffled but had to shelve the issue, and I began to question myself, question whether I had made the entire thing up. Yet..._" Diantha paused again, reached for a water bottle, and unscrewed the cap to take a drink. "_Several years ago, Kalos was troubled with a group known as Team Flare. I enlisted the help of a former Napajian G-Men officer to deal with the issue, and he and I eventually confronted the group in the Kalos Power Plant, but that's an aside. While battling some of the Team Flare administrators, the attack of a Mightyena directed at me infuriated my Aurorus. His protective nature incited once again, he Mega Evolved and was able to protect me. ... That was how I knew it was not a Mega Stone that drew out his power, but rather his love for me._"

Iris was enraptured by this story, and her head became dizzy with dozens of more thoughts and questions. It struck her that Aurorus was once a fossilized Pokémon, not unlike the Lileep which carried the virus that had now dug its claws into her region.

"So, it's..." Iris shook her head. "This is a weird request."

"_What is it?_" Diantha inquired, tilting her head.

"Could you... possibly send a blood sample of your Aurorus to Unova?" Iris asked.

* * *

With each passing night, Gary grew torturously more restless. It was difficult to sleep when everything in him ached, and the wound in his ankle, wrapped in gauze and concealed by pajama bottoms, still burned from the toxic bite that was slowly killing him, and he knew it _would_ kill him if he didn't find a treatment soon.

He also knew it wouldn't be long before the others noticed death casting its shadow on him; they could only conflate his illness with stress, which he had insisted was the issue, for so long before they realized his health was genuinely failing him. If Clemont and Brock remained mute, then Gary supposed he had another couple days before symptoms became too obvious conceal.

Or less.

Gary groaned and shifted uncomfortably when consciousness, bleary and feverish, visited him again that evening. He turned his head on his pillow to see Leaf beside him in bed; she was still asleep, though hers could not be counted as peaceful either. The weight of her leadership was wearing her away, and perhaps that was why she, a masterful liar herself, could not catch his lie; she was too wrapped up in her responsibilities to note he was ailing, but that would only last for so long.

Gary threw his sheets of him and stiffly rose from bed. He dragged his injured foot with him to the bathroom adjacent to the guest room and flicked on the yellow lights inside.

And felt his breath stop.

He had only cast a glance toward the mirror, but that was enough. He gripped the edges of the counter and leaned toward his reflection to ensure he wasn't imagining it, that his sleep-addled mind wasn't inventing new visions that would terrify him in the night. Yet, a closer inspection caused his stomach to drop and for him to mutter a curse. His scleras were tinted lavender.

"Gary?"

Gary saw Leaf lift her head from their bed, and he jerked his head forward, so she could not see his eyes. Rather, he kept his gaze on his fate, on the purplish hues that portended his demise.

"Hey Leafy Greens." His voice was strained, but he still managed to capture the smug quality that flavored his personality and said everything was okay.

"What are you doing up?" she yawned.

"Just..." He struggled to answer. He slowly turned to her; the backlighting concealed his colors, including those in his eyes. "... you know." He moved forward, toward the other side of the bedroom, where she still wouldn't be able to distinguish the changes in his face.

"Arceus, are you still limping?" she asked, exasperated.

"Yeah."

"Are you sure you don't have a stress fracture?"

"No, no," Gary corrected, shaking his head. "I just twisted it when Lopunny attacked me."

Leaf pursed her lips, visibly bothered by the mention.

"Mhm," she hummed. He _had _told her—and the others—that Buneary had escaped her cage and evolved in the process, as a way of explaining why he now walked with a stagger in his step. He had only twisted the reasoning on what caused that stagger. Leaf was obviously upset by the "close call," however.

Gary let out a long breath and rubbed his temple, deciding what he should do. He knew Leaf and the others would figure that he was infected at some point soon, but he still wasn't ready to tell them, especially not on the day before the contest.

"I forgot to tell you: I'm going to Nuvema Town today," he said suddenly.

"Nuvema? Why?" Leaf craned an eyebrow.

"I have a... meeting with Professor Juniper." This was the first excuse that came to mind, but it wasn't a bad one, and he managed to settle comfortably into his own fraudulence. "She's an expert in the origins of Pokémon. If the virus originated in Mew, then maybe she would know something."

Leaf considered his answer for only a moment before nodding, satisfied. She then said, "Well, say hi to Trip if you see him."

"To Trip?" he inquired.

"He's been visiting him mom there for almost a week," she answered. "She's getting worse."

Gary sank onto the edge of the bed, still facing away from her.

"I'd imagine so," he said.

* * *

Despite his best efforts to remain focused on the task before him, Clemont's breath gradually grew more ragged and his hands more unsteady the further the nearby conversation progressed. Of course, many of his past inventions had failed or broken down, causing some burns or shocks or messy cleanups—but never had a flaw in one of his designs condemned someone to their death, and now, he worked to pay a debt that could never be forgiven.

"Arceus, Gary," Brock groaned, sinking into a seat as a his own face sank into his hands. Gary, the unnatural hues of his eyes obvious under the lighting, looked down at him with contempt.

"Don't moan like _you're _the victim," Gary told him, irritated. His mood had noticeably soured alongside his worsening condition.

"I don't want to be complicit in this anymore," Brock argued back. "You said you would stop hiding it when the signs became obvious. Well, look in a mirror—the signs are obvious."

"Believe me, I've seen myself." Gary's hand rested on the counter to support himself. "I'm not thrilled doing this either."

"Then why—"

"—Because there are people depending on me!" Gary broke out with a strange, bitter laugh. "I'm not the only person whose life is at stake. There are other people who've been infected, and they have families and friends, and they're sweating prayers at their bedsides every night that the G-Men are going to find a treatment. Trip is one of those people, and—there are others, too, people like Iris who are being crushed with guilt because they're helpless to do anything, and they've staked their faith into me—"

Clemont dropped his screwdriver and uttered a panicked "sorry" several times over. He fumbled with the tool, then cast his eyes toward the ground, ashamed. Gary and Brock stared at him silently for a long moment. The anger of the moment had dissipated.

"... And then there's Leaf," Gary continued on. "Leaf is a buoy. She _is _the buoy. Iris and Paul are sinking, and she's fighting to keep them afloat. She has people like Cilan and Cynthia and Wallace to help her, but if she pops, they'll drown."

"And you think you—" Brock started.

"I don't think. I know," Gary cut him off. "That's why Leaf can't know. And even when she does know, she has to believe I'm going to be okay. Leaf might not be the leader for much longer, but she is now."

Clemont kept his head low as he continued to work on his repairs. Brock kept his gaze locked on Gary's but he eventually resigned with a sigh.

They heard the doors open, and they half-expected to see either Gary's grandfather or Bill, but instead, in came Misty. Gary turned away and fumbled with a pair of sunglasses, hastily putting them on. She approached with her hands were resting comfortably in the pockets of her jeans and her Heart Scale swinging from her neck. A Zigzagoon, which had spent the past ten minutes growling at everything and nothing in particular, silenced and drew into himself when she passed by him.

"Hey," she greeted. "Just wanted to check in. How are things going?"

"Same old, same old," Brock answered. His voice didn't break. Gary was still turned away. Clemont didn't lift his head. Misty raised an eyebrow.

"Gary, why are you wearing sunglasses indoors?" she asked dryly.

"Hey, I practically live in this place now," he sassed her. "The fluorescent lighting can get a little harsh."

Misty scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Whatever," she said. She then cast her gaze toward Clemont. "Serena was looking for you. We're making the trip to Nimbasa Town soon, to help the CIU set up for tomorrow. Are you interested in coming along?"

"Tell her thanks for the offer, but I really have things I need to do here," Clemont answered with a nervous smile. "I'll watch you guys compete on television tomorrow."

"Right." Misty looked back toward Gary and Brock. "Are either of you going to Nimbasa Town?"

"No." Brock shook his head.

"Not to Nimbasa Town, but I am headed to Nuvema Town," Gary replied.

"Nuvema? Are you going to see Trip's mom?" Misty asked.

"No, this is unrelated business," Gary answered. "I'm going to see Professor Juniper."

"How are you getting there? You've got a bad leg," Misty pointed out.

"I'm still driving," Gary said coolly. "My left leg is the one that's hurt, not my right. I'll be okay."

"Just be careful, all right?" Misty urged him; she had suddenly adopted a more serious tone. "You know Leaf would be destroyed if anything happened to you."

Clemont swallowed; his hand was shaking again. Brock had lowered his eyes, now unable to look anyone in the face. Gary, however, only nodded. His expression remained firm, disaffected by the same irony that had wretched his companions.

"I know," he said.

* * *

Leaf sat alone on the sofa in Iris's office. Her hand, shaking with an anger she concealed in her plain expression, held the cover of a magazine, and she was half-ready to tear the pages out and in half in a fury, the flames of which would be doused by the embittered tears that would inevitably come.

She had tried _so_ hard.

Before her emotions could tear her open, however, the door opened, and there stood Cynthia. Leaf stiffly laid the publication face-down and turned to look at the former Sinnoh Champion.

"Leaf," Cynthia began, her smooth voice carrying hints of jagged urgency, "there's something I want to speak with you about."

"Yeah." Leaf rose to her feet; she already suspected what Cynthia wanted to say. Yet, Cynthia paused long enough to glance around the room.

"Is Gary here?" she asked.

"... No?" Leaf was estranged by the question. "He left for Nuvema Town early this morning to meet with Professor Juniper. I woke up, and he was already gone." Cynthia appeared unusually disappointed upon this revelation.

"I see," she mused.

"What about Gary?" Leaf asked. Her patience was thinning, and her personal confusion over the matter did not help.

"I thought this might be important for him to hear, too," Cynthia admitted, and Leaf realized that whatever Cynthia wanted to discuss, it wasn't what Leaf thought. "You see, Steven is actually flying into Nimbasa City today with Emily. I hope you don't mind, but I shared a copy of Brandon's translation with him. I thought it sounded similar to—and well, Steven's been studying it for several years now, so I wanted his opinion, and he agrees with me."

"Similar to what?" Leaf pressed.

"Mega Evolution," Cynthia answered. "He and I believe what is being described in the tablet is Mega Evolution."

Leaf stared but said nothing. Yet, there was an agitated look in her eyes, the meaning of which Cynthia couldn't decipher. Still, it was an expression with which Cynthia was familiar; she had seen Lance wear it many times, and it remained as unreadable then as it did now.

"Do you—?" Cynthia started, guessing that perhaps Leaf was ignorant to what she was saying.

"—I know what Mega Evolution is." Leaf held up her wrist, which donned a silver bracelet with a charm—the female gender symbol—hanging from it. Encircled in the metallic head of the charm was a key stone, so small that Cynthia had failed to notice its presence in past encounters. "Both Paul and I do. It struck us as being similar to the virus."

"The emphasis on the relationship between Pokémon and humans, though—" Cynthia insisted, but she was cut off when the door opened once again and in came Iris. The Unova Champion stopped and hesitated when she saw the two other woman standing there.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt anything," Iris apologized.

"It's all right," Leaf mumbled. "What's going on?"

"Is Gary here?" Iris inquired.

"Why is Gary so popular today?" Leaf asked, exasperated. "No. He's in Nuvema Town." She then redirected her attention to Cynthia and picked up the conversation once again. "Look, I'm not trying to dismiss you or Steven. _Please_ grant me this lead, though. Please let us pursue it. We need something to pursue."

Cynthia stood silent, and Iris did a double-take between both her and Leaf, now confused. Leaf sank to the sofa again with a sigh and continued, "There is something you both ought to see, though."

"See what?" Iris asked, and Leaf picked up the magazine and held it out to them.

_**July 16th, 2009. Late Morning. Nimbasa Town.**_

"No, no," Serena tutted, shaking her head as she pressed Ash out of the way. "If you fold shirts like that, they'll get all wrinkled, and no one will want to buy them..." Ash stared in confusion as Serena, her eyebrows lowered with focus, refolded the entire stack of shirts Ash had compiled himself. She then stepped away with a proud smile, and he pouted.

"I thought they looked fine," he grumbled.

"They were a mess," Misty said point-blank as she finished folding her own stack.

"They were _not_," Ash protested.

"It looked like a pile of laundry," Bonnie said with a giggle, and Ash glowered at her.

"You're not exactly known for organization, Ash," Ritchie added teasingly. Silver, ignoring the present conversation, pulled out the final couple of shirts in the last box and folded them up without comment.

"Oh, come on," Ash said, exasperated.

"It's no big deal," Serena assured him with a wave of her hands. "I just work with clothes a lot, so I now how to properly fold them. ... Anyway, I think we've unpacked all the merchandise for this booth, so we should find Kelly."

"Yeah..." Ash agreed. He held out his arm to Pikachu, who was seated next to some tank tops, and let him climb up to his shoulder. "Maybe I should do something _other _than folding shirts, though..."

"A big, strong guy like you can be our hard labor, moving boxes," Bonnie suggested, flexing her muscles for emphasis. She kissed them and grinned, and Serena started laughing.

They found Kelly speaking with Brianna down the hallway of the stadium, but as soon as she noticed them approaching, she sent Brianna away and turned to the group with a smile. "Everything done?" she asked them.

"Yup!" Bonnie said, bounding up to her with a grin. "All set and ready for tomorrow."

"Is there anything else we can help you with?" Ritchie inquired.

"I'm actually good for now..." Kelly trailed off. She tapped her finger against her chin, thinking, until realization lit her eyes. "But! I know Dawn needed help with something earlier."

"Oh, yeah!" Ash nodded eagerly. "We'd love to help Dawn."

"I'll give her a call then." Kelly pulled out her two-way radio and, pressing the button on the front, said, "Hey, Dawn? I have some extra hands. Do you still need help?"

They waited only a brief moment before they heard her voice chime in with a reply, "_I do! Thank you. Send them to Entrance B on the first floor._"

"Will do," Kelly spoke into the receiver. She then turned toward the group. "You heard her—Entrance B on the first floor."

"Thank you, Kelly," Misty said.

"No, _thank you_," Kelly corrected. "You've been a big help. I'm looking forward to seeing you on the stage tomorrow." Misty let out an abashed laugh and thanked her once more before departing.

Downstairs, the group made it way past several entrances—F first, then D, then C—until they finally made it toward B, and Ash perked up when he saw Dawn and Drew together, helping each other pull in a cart of folding tables.

"Hey! Dawn, Drew!" Ash called out to them, waving. The pair stopped what they were doing and looked toward the group. Dawn quickly broke into a grin upon realizing who they were.

"Oh, hi guys!" she greeted cheerfully, approaching. "I didn't realize you were the 'extra hands.'"

"Yeah, yeah!" Ash said, equally enthused. "We've been for a little while now, just helping here and there. So, whaddaya need?"

"We're setting up health checkpoints at every entrance," Drew explained, joining the group with folded arms. "_Every _Pokémon being entered into the contest will be evaluated by a health professional checking for signs of the virus. I doubt we'll actually see any Pokémon with the virus, but it's a precaution that will put entrants and audience members at ease."

"That's really smart," Ritchie commended. "That way, it's more difficult for people to complain that you're being reckless by holding the contest."

"People are going to complain anyway," Drew dismissed before heading back to the cart. Dawn glowered at him before returning her attention to the main group.

"Don't mind him," she assured them. "He's been moody all morning. Anyway..."

Silver tuned out the rest of her words. Instead, he focused his gaze on the scene unfolding in the background: Zoey was moving brusquely up the opposite end of the hallway with Drew's name on her lips. Drew looked at her curiously, and Zoey, with an apprehensive expression, showed Drew something on her phone. Drew furrowed his eyebrows, visibly bothered by whatever she was sharing. They conspired together in low voices, occasionally casting glances toward Dawn, and that was when Silver realized trouble was afoot.

"... So if we could just get these tables set up, it would—" Dawn went out, but she failed to finish her thought as Drew's hand fell upon her shoulder. She looked back at him, confused, and Ash and the others shared the same expression.

"Dawn," he started seriously, "I need to talk to you."

_**July 16th, 2009. Late Morning. Opelucid City.**_

Caitlin's finger gently touched the screen of her tablet, scrolling several paragraphs further down the webpage. She wore a troubled expression, and her concerns only grew in size the further she delved into the story. Occasionally, she would cast glances toward the door of her suite, knowing it was only a matter of time before he came—she sensed he would—and sure enough, in time, there came a knock at the door.

"Come in," Caitlin said tacitly. The door flew open, and Paul stormed in, and he looked at her with wild, angry eyes.

"How did it get out?" he demanded, as if she were holding the informer hostage in her closet.

Caitlin initially did not speak, nor did she look up at him. Rather, she took the time to gently power down the screen of her tablet and lay it on the coffee table before her. Then, leaning back into her chair and folding one leg over the other, she said, "You know, it is interesting. Of all my patients, I would have believed you would be the last to ever seek me out on my personal time."

Paul stared at her incredulously, agitated that she would avoid his question. He then lifted a magazine in his hands and asked, "Did you see this?"

Caitlin glanced at the cover. It was a copy of the most-recent Coordinator's Weekly, which featured a picture of Paul and Dawn—one taken months earlier, when they were still together, walking through the streets of Hearthome City—with a jagged, yellow graphic running between them and the headline, "Dawn And Paul Officially OVER." A sidebar on the same page read, "A source tells CW that the two split because of his 'increasingly irrational, suicidal' behavior."

"I did," Caitlin said quietly.

"How did it get out?" Paul repeated, his voice still shaking with fury.

"I don't know." Caitlin shook her head. Her response, simple and uninformative as it was, dismantled his antagonism, and he sank to a nearby chair, defeated.

"What am I supposed to do?" he asked.

"I am unfortunately not a PR consultant," Caitlin said plainly. "You would be better suited to speak with Leaf."

"I don't want to talk to Leaf," Paul growled.

"Why me, then?" Caitlin inquired.

"I'm _supposed_ to talk to you," Paul said, as though it were obvious.

"And not to your friends? I am only your therapist. I am invested in your wellbeing, but your friends are invested in your life." Paul said nothing in response to this, and Caitlin leaned toward him, adding, "I'll give you same advice I've tried to give every time we've met: You should speak with Dawn. I'm not suggesting you need to reignite the relationship, but I believe you may have both left some things unsaid—especially with Torterra. And now, with this—" She touched the screen on her tablet, reactivating it to reveal she had been reading the Coordinator's Weekly story. "—I think you have more reason than ever."

Paul was again silent—but this silence was short-lived, as the ring of his cell phone cut through the air. He pulled the device out of his back pocket and placed it on the table, staring at it.

"Who's calling?" Caitlin asked.

"Leaf, again," Paul answered.

"She only cares," Caitlin reminded him.

Paul reached for the phone, appearing as though he would answer. Yet, he hesitated, and ultimately turned the device off.

"... I know she does," he said.

* * *

Cilan's phone went off mere minutes after class had ended, before either he or Burgundy could finish packing up to leave. He, with tired eyes that told of a long night, swiped his device up and cursorily checked the caller ID before answering.

"Hello, Iris?" he started. "Is something wrong?"

Burgundy, still only half-finished organizing her papers, slowly lifted her gaze toward him. She stood across the aisle from him, a respectable distance. She found it equally interesting and unfortunate that any time Iris called, Cilan immediately assumed she had bad news to deliver. The sad part of his supposition, though, was that he was usually right.

Cilan pressed his lips together, visibly unsettled as he listened attentively to whatever his wife had to say, and Burgundy couldn't help but watch with a careful eye. She purposefully slowed down her packing so she could listen in, too.

"No, no. This is the first I've heard of it," Cilan eventually replied. His tone was serious though dispirited. "Ah, so that was why Caitlin was around..." Realization briefly lit his eyes, but they soon dulled again as Iris continued to speak. Later, he glanced at the clock, then interrupted her, saying, "I'm sorry, dear; I need to put you on speaker. The next professor is going to be here soon, and I need to finish putting away my books."

"_Is anyone else there?_" Iris asked cautiously, her bleary voice weakly patching through on Cilan's phone after he laid it on the table.

"Just Burgundy," Cilan answered.

"_Oh. Okay then._" Burgundy blinked and appeared wary; she couldn't tell whether Iris was being dismissive or trusting. Iris continued, "_Leaf and I are really at a loss of what to do. We're supposed to leave for Nimbasa Town as soon as Chili and Cress get here, and Paul's nowhere to be found. Leaf went to his apartment, and he wasn't there. Agent Gray hasn't seen him either._"

"Have _you_ tried calling him?" Cilan suggested. "He might be more receptive to speaking with you than Leaf. Although, truly, if it's as bad as you're making it sound, have you considered that perhaps he doesn't want to go to Nimbasa Town? The contest will be highly publicized, and I wouldn't blame him if he wanted to stay away from where cameras linger."

"_... That's true,_" Iris conceded. "_But, if that's what he wants, can't he at least tell us that? We're really worried._"

"You call him and see where that takes you," Cilan reiterated his suggestion.

"_Okay, I will. Thanks._"

"I'll be home soon," Cilan told her. He then added, with feeling, "I love you." He meant it—he really did—but he had to remind himself to say it. Grief was all-consuming and could dull sweeter affections, but he would not lose sight of them, and he wouldn't let Iris either.

"_I love you, too._"

He ended the call, and Burgundy waited in silence for a moment, wanting to time her question. Nevertheless, she still managed to hit an off-beat when she asked, "What's going on?"

Cilan didn't seem to mind. Still, he sighed and answered, "Coordinator's Weekly ran a story about Paul and Dawn today, about how they've broken up, allegedly because of 'suicidal' tendencies."

"Excuse me?" Burgundy drew back in surprise.

"I don't know much beyond that. I haven't read the story, and I don't plan to," Cilan said. This response gave Burgundy pause—it caught her off guard, him saying he wouldn't read it. She suddenly decided she wouldn't either. He continued, "And, well, it might have a ring of truth to it. We did know Dawn and Paul were broken up, but..." He shook his head. "Iris was vaguely aware he was seeing a therapist. I wasn't, but I suppose that's been happening for a little while now."

Burgundy said nothing to this; she didn't know what to say. Cilan put away his last folders and then said, "I must be off. My brothers will be in the area soon."

"Mm," Burgundy hummed, again having nothing to say.

"Will you be going to Nimbasa Town, too?" Cilan asked her.

"I don't know." Burgundy shrugged, though she did know. Georgia was going to compete, and she would get upset if Burgundy didn't at least go to _watch _her. Cilan, she decided, didn't need to know this. Upon this thought, however, it occurred to Burgundy that there were plenty of things Cilan had shared with her that she didn't need to know.

Cilan frowned but said, "Well, if I don't see you this weekend, then I'll talk to you on Tueisday."

He left, and Burgundy stewed in her own hypocrisy for a while before putting away her final items, too, and leaving.

_**July 16th, 2009. Afternoon. Nuvema Town.**_

"Thank you for meeting with me on such late notice, Professor Juniper," Gary said, easing himself into a chair across from the esteemed researcher. She had inquired of his injury, but he had already placated her with his twisted-ankle story, so she didn't press the issue. She, however, had _not_ inquired why he was wearing sunglasses indoors, but Gary assumed she was too polite to bring it up.

"It's a pleasure, Gary," Aurea replied with a smile. "I've known your grandfather for some time. I've always seen as sort of a mentor, so it's nice to finally meet you, too. He raves about you any time I see him."

Gary nodded slowly, and he felt his stomach knot. His grandfather was also unaware Gary had become infected, and the thought of him learning the truth made Gary feel ill in a way the thought of Leaf knowing didn't. Leaf would be wretchedly angry—at him, at herself, at whoever had laid out their fate—when she found out; the elder Oak would be heart-crushed.

"Yeah, he likes to run his mouth about me," Gary said with a forced grin. Aurea's blonde assistant—Bianca, Gary remembered—tottered into the room with a bright smile and a tray with tea.

"Here!" she said enthusiastically, dropping the tray onto the table with a clatter. Luckily, nothing spilled. "I brought you two something to drink, just in case."

"Thank you, Bianca," Aurea said tiredly, used to her behavior.

Gary needed a further moment to recover, then shook his head, saying, "Yeah, thank you." He paused, observing her for a moment. "You—you're Barry's cousin, right?"

"That's me!" She beamed. "I know about you, too. I mostly know about you with you being the grandson of Professor Oak and all, but Barry has also talked about you and the others before. He always says nice things."

"He's a handful, but he's a nice guy," Gary conceded. Bianca laughed cheerfully and agreed before hurrying off to attend to her other chores. Gary once again looked toward Aurea, who moved her tea cup off the tray to take a sip.

"She's a little scatter-brained but a brilliant young researcher in her own right," Aurea said after a moment.

"She definitely falls in line with what you would expect from the family," Gary offered.

"Anyway," Aurea changed the subject, "what was it you wanted to speak with me about? I know you, your grandfather, and Bill must be running yourselves into the ground studying that virus... Bianca and I have both read your thesis, and it's fascinating but terrifying, given what's been happening in Unova."

"Mhm," Gary mumbled in agreement. "We..." He paused and closed his eyes, considering how he should begin. Although this meeting was a spur-of-the-moment escape from Opelucid City, he did genuinely have questions for her but was unsure how to approach the topic. "We found a tablet depicting Mew a little more than a week ago. Brandon Blair, the Kanto Frontier Brain, said it was about 4,000 years old, and he translated the text for us."

Aurea's interest was immediately piqued, and Gary reached into his bag to pull out a copy of the translation. He slid it toward her, and she gave him a nod of thanks before letting her eyes fall to the text. She observed the picture for a while, then read the translated words carefully, poring over their meaning.

"So... ?" Gary started after a while, watching her eyes fall away.

"It is a compelling find," Aurea mused, but she added no further comment.

"You've dedicated years of research to the origins of Pokémon," Gary went on, wanting to pull more out of her. "So I'm sure you know a lot about Mew, right?"

"I know quite a bit," Aurea admitted.

"We think what's described in the translation sounds similar to the virus," Gary continued. "Have you ever seen or heard of anything like this in your research? We think Mew might be the original source of the virus, and we have some evidence to back that up beyond this tablet. Team Rocket, years ago, created a clone of Mew, and we managed to get a blood sample, and he tested positive for the virus."

"I know about Mewtwo," Aurea said tacitly, and Gary nodded, deciding not to pursue the details why; he was certain his grandfather or some other researcher in the know had mentioned him to her. Aurea then addressed his question, saying, "Mew is credited with nearly every uncertain scientific phenomenon or question, and she has been for as long as humans have revered her, which is always. Before we knew the sun formed as part of the collapse of a giant molecular cloud 4 billion years ago, most believed Mew was the creator of the sun."

Gary pressed his lip together, dissatisfied with the direction of her answer. Then, she added, "However..." Gary perked up again, and Aurea smiled. "That isn't to say Mew isn't a major component in the creation of Pokémon and possibly humanity. Even the most esteemed Pokémon researchers acknowledge Mew as enormously important in the study of Pokémon. Your own grandfather believes Mew may have set the framework of relationships between humans and Pokémon, while Professor Sycamore of the Kalos region has previously explored whether there is some connection between Mew and Mega Evolution."

"Mega Evolution?" Gary repeated.

"Have you heard about it?" Aurea asked.

"Yeah, I have." Gary nodded. "My girlfriend owns a key stone and Mega Stone." He paused before shuffling back to the topic at hand, "So, would it be, in your professional opinion, possible that Mew might been the origin of the virus, and that she might somehow hold the answer to treating it?"

Aurea was silent for a moment, thinking. Then, touching the edge of the translation, she said, "If she is, it sounds like the answer is already here."

Before either could say anything further, a girlish scream tore through the lab, and both Professor Juniper and Gary (despite his injured foot) stood in alarm. It was Bianca's voice they had heard, before either could cry for her or run to see whether she was okay, Bianca hurried into the room with a Luvdisc flailing in her arms. She was breathless with excitement, and her red glasses were askew in messy delight.

"Look—look at this!" Bianca wailed joyfully as she held out Luvdisc.

"What is it?" Juniper was still on high alert.

"This Luvdisc! This Luvdisc I've been caring for in the lab, it grew a Heart Scale!" She was shaking. "I can't believe it—a Heart Scale!" She pressed the creature to her chest, hugging it. "You love me, don't you? You really, really love me."

_**July 16th, 2009. Afternoon. Opelucid City.**_

"Come on—one more round," Georgia encouraged, turning one of her enlarged Pokéballs around in her hand, as if to taunt her friend. "I'll even go easy on you this time. I promise."

Burgundy, however, was unenthused at the prospect of another inevitable loss and she, standing her ground, huffed, "_Non_. I'm done for the day." They stood on a small, barely maintained battlefield inside Burgundy's apartment complex, and they had been there for the better part of the afternoon. Burgundy was tired of being decimated by Georgia, though, and Burgundy was certain her Pokémon were, too.

Disgruntled herself, Georgia said, "If I lose for lack of practice tomorrow, I'm blaming you."

"Is it really practice if you're knocking out her team with one-hit KOs?"

Burgundy and Georgia both pricked up in surprise, and their eyes darted toward the direction from where the male voice had come. Chili Griffith pushed open the unlocked gate and approached them with his hands sliding into the pockets of his khakis.

"Maybe not, but it sure does boost my ego," Georgia answered smugly. Burgundy was less welcoming.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded with a snarl. "This place is reserved for residents and their guests. Get out."

Chili only laughed, however, and continued advancing toward them. Burgundy drew in herself, pouting as he formed a standing triangle with them.

"Cilan told me it sounded like you weren't going out to Nimbasa Town for the contest," he said, addressing Burgundy. "Why's that?"

"Wait..." Georgia started, turning toward Burgundy. "You're not coming to see me in Nimbasa Town? I thought we were staying in a hotel room together."

Burgundy was annoyed it had been brought up, and she corrected, "I don't _want_ to got to Nimbasa Town. I never said I wasn't."

Georgia was already miffed, though, and said, "Well, geez—if you don't want to go, then don't. Don't let me ruin whatever stellar weekend plans you had going on here."

"I didn't—" Burgundy started, but Georgia cut her off.

"No, it's fine," she asserted. "Watch me on TV if you want. Don't waste the money for the room if you don't want to be there. Arceus knows you need the money anyway." A short, uncomfortable silence fell, but it was quickly filled when Georgia pulled out her phone and continued, "I wanted to see if I should pick up Trip from Nuvema Town anyway. He'll keep me company."

Before Burgundy could protest, Georgia left without another word. She close the gate behind her, and Burgundy groaned before glowering at Chili, who cringed with a sheepish smile in response.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I didn't mean to provoke a fight."

"What are you doing here?" Burgundy repeated her question. She sounded less angry this time—more tired. "I thought you would've been off to Nimbasa Town already with your brothers and sister-in-law."

"Oh, they've left," Chili told her.

"What?" Burgundy looked confused.

"They already left," Chili said again. "I hung back. I'm leaving soon enough, but I decided to stick around for a little bit. I told 'em I had some stuff I wanted to do."

"What stuff?" Burgundy demanded.

"Well—I wanted to see you," Chili said point blank. Burgundy narrowed her gaze suspiciously. He continued, "Cilan worries about you. It'd put him at ease if you showed up tomorrow. He thinks you hate him, and you might. You have reason to, anyway. He dwells on that kind of thing, though, and it's bad enough with Iris and... you know... so I thought I'd try to make it a little better for him."

"Oh, so you came here to convince me to go to Nimbasa Town so that Cilan won't get bent out of shape?" Burgundy rolled her eyes.

"Pretty much, yup." Chili nodded.

"Well, I _would _have been going to Nimbasa Town tonight, but you came, and Georgia and I got into a fight," Burgundy reminded him.

"Yeah, about that..." Chili started. "I really am sorry. I'll make it up to you—give you a little incentive, you know? There's this really great restaurant in Nimbasa Town called Ninety-Six Percent. If you show up there at 7 p.m. tonight, I'll buy you dinner."

"How is _that _an incentive?" Burgundy scoffed.

"Free food?" Chili offered.

Burgundy stared, considering his proposition despite her disaffected expression. A paid dinner, even a nice one, wasn't _that _much of an incentive, and the company might cancel the cost anyway. Nevertheless, she eventually folded her arms and shifted her weight to her left hip.

"... Maybe," she finally answered.

Chili grinned.

"We'll call it a date, then!" He saluted her and backed toward the gate, and Burgundy was already half-regretting her decision.

_**July 16th, 2009. Afternoon. Nimbasa Town.**_

"And tomorrow? ... Yeah, that makes sense."

Iris could vaguely hear Leaf speaking outside her hotel room, where they had recently arrived. The Unova Champion sat on the edge of her bed, her eyes turned toward the window, where the green, patterned curtains were drawn apart for a view of the town. Cilan was unpacking for their one-night stay, but Iris could tell his ears were also turned toward the conversation at hand.

"All right. I suppose I'll see you tomorrow night, then." There was an evident twinge of disappointment in Leaf's tone, but the call nevertheless ended.

Before Leaf could leave earshot—to return to her own room, to find Lance, whatever—Iris inclined her head toward the open door and asked, "Was that Paul or Gary?"

Leaf glanced her way, stepped half-way into the room, and answered, "Gary. He talked to Aurea Juniper, and he's heading back to Opelucid to continue working, so we won't be seeing him at the contest." She paused before adding, "I haven't heard from Paul, still."

"You talked to him, though, correct?" Cilan piped in, addressing Iris.

"Yeah." Iris nodded. "I called him. It was pretty short conversation: He just said he was fine and wanted to be left alone, and to go to Nimbasa without him."

And it was just that: Paul picked up immediately when Iris dialed him—she supposed Cilan was right when he said Paul might be more receptive to speaking with her than Leaf—and before Iris could get a single word in, he said, "_I'm fine. Leave me alone. Go to Nimbasa without me._" And he hung up. It was over in ten words.

Leaf said something else, but Iris wasn't listening, and Leaf soon left. Iris turned back toward the window. Cress came in, and he and Cilan struck up a chat—something about Chili or Burgundy; Iris wasn't paying attention. She could see the stadium from the window. Drew and the others, she was sure, were hard at work right then.

She drew in a long breath. She hoped Leaf and Drew's plan worked.

"Iris? Iris!"

The call became clear, and Iris snapped her head toward Cilan and Cress. The latter had been repeating her name, but she had been so withdrawn that she had failed to notice up until then.

"Yeah?" she said.

"Did you ever end up talking to Diantha?" Cress asked her.

"I did, actually," Iris answered. "Thank you—and give Siebold my thanks, too."

"I will." Cress nodded. "What did you end up talking about?"

Cilan had not asked her this question yet, but with the way his green eyes immediately locked onto her, Iris could tell he had been wanting to know the answer for a while. Cress was only politely curious. Still, Iris decided she had remained mute for long enough, and so she only had some hesitation when she replied, "Mega Evolution."

"Mega Evolution?" Cilan inquired, raising his eyebrows. It was not the response he expected.

"Yeah—" Iris fumbled to show her pendant. "Diantha gave me a key stone when I was inaugurated."

"Did she give you a Mega Stone, too?" Cress asked.

"No, actually," Iris admitted. "That's what I called her about. She supposedly gave both Paul and Leaf a key and Mega Stone when they were inaugurated, but no Mega Stone for me."

"I don't believe you have a Pokémon that _can _Mega Evolve," Cilan remarked.

"She would disagree," Iris said.

"And so would I."

Surprise crossed the occupants' expressions at the familiar sound, and all three turned their heads toward the doorway. Sure enough, there stood the former Hoenn Champion, Steven Stone, with Cynthia only a foot behind him. Emily was tightly grasping her mother's hand, happy to be reunited after weeks apart.

"Steven!" Iris rose to her feet, her lips spreading into a smile.

"Hello, Ms. Ajagara," Steven replied germanely. "It's a pleasure to see you."

"I didn't know you were coming," Iris confessed.

"That's my fault—" Cynthia briefly interjected. "—I did tell Leaf this morning that he and Emily were coming, but then we found out about the issue with Paul, and it slipped my mind that I should tell you, too."

"Oh, I see," Iris mused, unoffended. She looked toward Steven once again and asked, "So I'm guessing you came out here to see Cynthia judge?"

"Partly," Steven answered. "I'll admit a large motivating factor, though, was Brandon's translation. When I read it for the first time, I immediately thought—"

"—That it sounded like Mega Evolution?" Iris finished for him.

"Ah, so we're on the same page, then." Steven sounded pleasantly surprised, and Cynthia appeared similarly gratified.

"Yeah..." Iris gestured for the family to come inside and sit, supposing they would delve deeper into the topic.

"You think the translation alludes to Mega Evolution?" This revelation threw Cilan for a loop, having been under the impression she also believed it matched up with the virus.

"Well..." Iris was still unsure. "Serena brought it up to me, and I wanted to look into it further. That's... really why I wanted to talk to Diantha."

"And she disagrees that your Pokémon can't Mega Evolve, despite the lack of a stone?" Cress asked.

"She had a story," Iris started vaguely, not wanting to repeat the entire thing, "about a Pokémon of hers that's Mega Evolved without a stone. She thinks it's all dependant on the relationship between the trainer and the Pokémon, not so much the stone."

"The... relationship?" Cilan was both intrigued and baffled.

"Research shows Mega Evolution can only occur when there is a close bond between a human and a Pokémon," Steven elaborated, sitting in a chair with Iris's invitation. "The key stone and Mega Stone do play a role—they are a trigger, a connecting factor that enables the change—but there are stories of it happening without the stones." He paused before adding, "There are still many unanswered questions."

"What are key stones and Mega Stones made of?" Iris asked him, knowing he would have the answer.

"Some say meteorites, others say they're evolution stones irradiated by the Legendary Kalosian Pokémon Yvetal and Xerneas," Steven explained. He smiled, however, before adding, "Romantic tales, in my opinion. The truth is, Mega Stones and key stones are produced from a rare ore known as Cieite. They're pink crystals created by the Pokémon, Diancie. The largest field of them is found in Ambrette Town, Kalos, though there are crops of them in other locations. There _are_ other components in the key and Mega Stones that are sold in stores, but the Cieite is the fundamental unit. You see, Cieite holds a large concentration of energy from Diancie, and some researchers theorize that's what boosts the power of a Mega Evolved Pokémon."

"But I thought the stones weren't necessary...?" Cilan gently pressed.

"Like I said, there are many unanswered questions," Steven said.

"And here's another one," Iris started, "if Diancie is the one who's credited with the stones, then why does the tablet mention Mew?"

"Perhaps this is conjecture," Cynthia broke in, "but if we acknowledge Mew as the creator of Pokémon, then she theoretically did create Diancie. ... Or perhaps it's another case of unexplained phenomena, by default, being attributed to Mew."

"That does happen quite often," Cress offered.

"Mewtwo _did _test positive for the virus, though," Cilan reminded them. "If what you say is true, Steven, then the tablet being connected to Mega Evolution is plausible. Yet, I think there's an equal argument that the tablet is connected to the virus."

"Have we considered that it's connected to both?" Steven suggested suddenly, and his question was met with silence.

* * *

Kenny, his hair slightly mussed from a long day of work and his brow creased with a deep line of worry, was alone in the stadium press box, leaning back in one of the wheeled chairs with his feet up on the table. Before him, he had a stack of place cards he needed to—well, place—but instead, he was on his phone. He had heard about the article (everyone had within one hour) but had not been able to snag a chance to read it, especially since he _did not _want Dawn to catch him peeking.

The door swung open, and Kenny jumped before fumbling to straighten himself up and hide his phone. Zoey raised an eyebrow as Kenny made a grab for the place cards, apparently wanting to look busy.

"Hey," she started, electing to ignore his movement. "How close are you to being done?"

"Pretty close," Kenny answered, a little quickly.

"How long?" Zoey asked.

"Maybe a half-hour," Kenny mumbled.

"Good."

"Good?" Kenny gave her an odd look.

"I need you to do me a favor," Zoey said, leaning toward him over the table. "I'm going back to Opelucid right now. When you finish work, I want you to collect Dawn and follow me."

Kenny blinked.

"In a half-hour?" he inquired confusedly, unclear why she wanted him to leave later than him.

Yet, Zoey nodded and said, "That's all the time I'll need."

_**July 16th, 2009. Early Evening. Nuvema Town.**_

Trip was half-asleep on a sofa within his childhood home when he hazily heard the front door open—he had left it unlocked on purpose—but he couldn't bring himself to get up, so he waited until Georgia headed inside and gave him a gentle shove on the shoulder to wake him up. He groaned and turned an eye toward her, seeing her plain expression and the hand on her hip.

"You know, I thought you would be at the hospital," she remarked.

"I am at the hospital a lot." Trip sat up and yawned. "But she's asleep. I asked the doctor to increase her morphine dosage, so she's unconscious half the time."

His comment affected Georgia, and she drew back, now a little more cautious. He wasn't offended, though; just tired.

"I see," she said. "... Well, do you still want to go to the contest?"

"Yeah..." Trip scooped up his packed bag and slung it over his shoulder. She nodded and started to head out, but Trip, now more awake, briefly grasped her upper arm to stop her.

"Hey," he started, "thanks." When she stared, he added, "For coming by."

Now understanding, Georgia cracked a smile.

"Sure thing."

_**July 16th, 2009. Evening. Nimbasa Town.**_

Twenty minutes had passed since the time Chili and Burgundy (well, mostly Chili) had agreed to meet, and other patrons in the admittedly swanky establishment were starting to cast him sympathetic glances. Chili wasn't bothered, though—not yet, at least. He was content to enjoy the glass of water he ordered (and he'd ordered an extra one just in case she decided to show), and if time stretched too long, he'd order himself food and take comfort in saving $20 by not paying for a date's meal, too.

Yet, the next time his gaze rose, he saw her—hair curled, wearing a white dress—standing near the entrance, and the hostess directed her toward his table. His lips spread into a thin smirk as she approached.

"I knew you'd come," he said smugly as she sat across from him.

"I can leave," Burgundy told him, already sliding to the edge of her seat, as if to threaten she would happily go right then.

"Aw, but then you'd miss out on excellent company and an excellent meal," Chili taunted her.

"You think too highly of yourself," Burgundy grumbled, settling down again and picking up her menu.

"That's the pot calling the kettle black," Chili remarked.

"Ha, funny," Burgundy said dryly. She almost scoffed and told him she didn't think highly of herself at all, but she held her tongue. The last thing she wanted was to get emotionally mushy, or even remotely personal, with Chili Griffith on a date. 'Not a date,' Burgundy then suddenly, silently, reminded herself. She wasn't going to let it turn into one.

A brief spell of silence followed, and it wasn't long before Chili clicked his tongue and started, "So—"

"—Excuse me, I'm trying to read the menu," she cut him off. He was unperturbed.

"The pasta here is pretty good," he suggested. Burgundy _had _been looking at the pasta menu, at the Shrimp Scampi dish in particular, but she immediately darted her eyes toward a different section as soon as he said that. The silence resumed until—

"Good evening." A waiter approached the table. He was wearing a red bowtie, which annoyed Burgundy for some reason. "Welcome to Ninety-Six Percent. Are you ready to place your order?"

"Yes. The Shrimp Scampi, please," Chili told him politely. He then asked, "Could you bring us a drink menu, though? We're both going to need it."

"Certainly." The waiter nodded then looked toward Burgundy, who was staring at Chili, struck (with an undertone of irritation) that he had ordered the one thing she had wanted but was too prideful to ask for.

"The Chicken Marsala," Burgundy said, offering up her second choice as well as her menu. "Thank you."

Once the waiter was gone, Chili tried to strike up a conversation again.

"So you entering the contest tomorrow?" he asked.

"Maybe," Burgundy answered plainly. "Probably not."

"_I'm _entering," Chili informed her.

"Good for you," Burgundy said. "Can't wait to see Georgia or some other coordinator wipe the floor with you."

"Oh ye of little faith." Chili smiled. "I plan to at least make it to the second round of battles. Besides, I thought you and Georgia were fighting? It's not like you have much room to speak anyway if you're not entering."

"Georgia and I will make up tonight when I check into the hotel room we reserved and she's forced to talk to me," Burgundy said bluntly. "The reason I'm not entering is because I prefer not to embarrass myself."

"Now that's sad," Chili mused. "Failing, I can respect. Not trying at all, though? I bet you've told your students they can do _anything _as long as they try. What would they say if they heard you just now? What would—?"

"_—__Don't _go there," Burgundy warned, hissing through gritted teeth.

"All right," Chili agreed, backing down. "That crossed a line. Sorry." Burgundy frowned and fell back in her seat. Chili wetted his lips before continuing, "Point still stands, though. You're in a funk. A bad funk, and I get why you're there, with the PCA on your ass and Karina's loss on your mind. You can't shut down, though."

"I'm not shutting down," Burgundy protested. "I'm just exhausted. You would be, too. It doesn't help that your brother is an idiot and is gearing up to make what he thinks is a 'noble' sacrifice that has no chance in working and will make me feel worse about everything."

Chili's face twisted with confusion.

"Noble sacrifice?" he repeated.

"Never mind," Burgundy mumbled. She then sighed, adding, "Look, I did what you wanted me to do. I came to Nimbasa Town so Cilan wouldn't beat himself up or whatever. What else do you want out of me?"

"Is it too ambitious for me to try to make two people happy?" Chili asked, shrugging off her earlier remarks. When she stared, he appended, "Cilan's fine. Relatively fine. Or, at least, he's going to be fine. Your wellbeing, on the other hand, is a little more questionable."

"Since when do you care?" Burgundy grumbled. The waiter came by again and dropped off the drink menus Chili had requested.

"Maybe I'm just a good guy," Chili said wryly. The irony almost made Burgundy laugh.

"If I had a dime for every time I heard that..." she started.

"You'd have less than a dollar, and I can tell, because you're in serious need of getting laid," Chili said before she could finish her thought.

"Oh, great. So you want to sleep with me?" Burgundy rolled her eyes.

She was surprised when Chili instantly grinned and a sly look passed through his eyes.

"Well, at least let me buy you dinner first," he teased her.

The implications—and Burgundy hated herself for this—caused heat to stretch from her core, extending to northern and southern ends of her person. She stuck the drink menu in front of her reddening face and muttered a few choice words. Chili was right. They were both going to need a couple—maybe even more—drinks.

_**July 16th, 2009. Evening. Outside Opelucid City.**_

The highway road wound for miles ahead. The darkness of evening had fallen, and Kenny had only the headlights on his car to guide him. Dawn sat beside him in the passenger seat, with the window partially rolled down and her hand cupping her chin. They hadn't said much on their trip. The silence, under different circumstances, might have been reassuring, but it only reminded Kenny of things that weren't there.

"So why did Drew want us to go to Opelucid again?" Dawn asked suddenly, as if she had forgotten. She had been distant all day, and she knew it, too.

"There were just some things he wanted us to pick up from the office," Kenny lied. That was what Zoey had said to tell her. Kenny was unclear whether Drew was in on the plan or not, but if he wasn't, he wouldn't care as long as he knew Zoey was the architect behind it. Zoey's ideas usually worked out; Kenny's or Barry's usually ended with someone getting hurt.

"Mm," Dawn hummed, but she said nothing further.

Kenny briefly shifted his eyes toward her then to his phone in the center tray of the car. No new messages. Zoey was supposed to text him when she had the OK. Kenny had purposefully taken a long route, just to give her more time.

"So, uh..." Kenny cleared his throat. "How are you today after, you know, everything...?"

"I'd rather not talk about it," Dawn told him. Kenny counted the seconds in his mind, however, until she started, "It's just..." Kenny kept an expectant eye on her as she pressed her hand to her face. "... I _never _wanted this to happen. I had started to suspect something was going on while we were dating, and I tried to push him into getting help, but we broke up and then after Torterra..." She paused and dragged her hand down. She was rambling. "It's because _I'm _a coordinator that they ran that story."

"He's famous, too," Kenny reminded her, "and there are other trashy publications."

"But we have the leak," Dawn said bitterly. Kenny glanced at her with surprise, and she added, "I didn't think about it until today, but we have a leak somewhere. And Leaf knows it. That's why she shut Drew out for a while."

"What else would—?" Kenny started, but Dawn already anticipated his question.

"—Iris," she answered, "when everyone thought she was poisoned."

Kenny snapped his mouth shut. Dawn decided she was done talking, and she turned her face toward the window again. Kenny crossed the line into Opelucid City.

**_July 16th, 2009. Evening. Nimbasa Town._**

"Wait here." Georgia told Trip this brusquely after she had parked the car near the hotel lobby, and, after unbuckling her seatbelt, she slid outside the car door and headed inside. The attendant glanced up at Georgia over thin, gold-framed glasses as she entered before straightening up.

"Hello, I'm here to check into a room I reserved earlier," Georgia told her.

"Name?" the attendant inquired politely, moving to her computer.

"Hamilton," Georgia answered. "Georgia Hamilton."

The attendant nodded and typed in her name. She then paused, squinted at the screen, and looked back at Georgia with a moderately suspicious glance.

"I'm sorry," she said. "It looks like another person on the reservation already checked in today."

"Burgundy checked in?" Georgia's brow shot up.

"Myers? Yes," the attendant confirmed, nodding. Georgia frowned, disgruntled by this development when she had Trip waiting for her in the car.

"O-kay..." Georgia started, annoyed. "Sorry for the misunderstanding. I'll... give her a call." She promptly drew away from the desk and reached for the cell phone in her back pocket. She dialed Burgundy's number and slung her weight to her left hip, waiting as the phone rang.

It went to voicemail. Georgia scowled and dialed her number a second time. Again, it went to voicemail.

"This bitch," Georgia muttered bitterly. The attendant was still watching her, and Georgia gave up, stalking back outside. Trip straightened up when he noticed that she was coming, and that she was coming in mad. She flung open the car door, slid inside, then slammed the door shut again.

"Something wrong?" Trip asked.

"The hotel made a mistake," Georgia lied, deciding she didn't want to explain. "They accidentally double-booked my room."

"You're kidding." Trip looked at her incredulously. "They're giving you another room, though, right?"

"Nope." Georgia stuck her keys back into the ignition. "Everything's filled." She then pointed to the sign hanging outside the window—"No Vacancies"—for emphasis.

"A refund, at least?" Trip inquired.

"Uh-huh," Georgia mumbled.

"Well, there's got to be another place we can find," Trip offered. "Maybe the Pokémon Center?"

"The night before a huge contest, the first in Unova?" Georgia scoffed as she started the car. "I don't think so."

"It's worth _trying_," Trip defended. Georgia ignored him as she shifted the car into drive and pressed on the accelerator. Trip watched her with confusion as she moved out of the parking lot and onto the main road but promptly turned onto an alleyway backend to the hotel. She found an open space among several employees' vehicles and shut off the engine again.

"I have blankets back here," Georgia said, pointing toward the back row of passenger seats. "Hope you don't mind sleeping in cars."

"That's illegal," Trip said dryly.

"Who's gonna stop us?" Georgia said, opening the door again and sliding out. Trip stuck his head out after her.

"Office Jenny, presumably," he said.

"Only if she finds us." Georgia opening the back door and pulled the levers to flatten the back row of seats. She then retrieved one of the aforementioned blankets and laid it out as if it were a sheet.

"Georgia..." Trip started tentatively.

"Officer Jenny has better things to do than yell at some kids sleeping the back of a car," Georgia told him point-blank.

"It's just—"

"—If you'd rather me drive you back to Nuvema Town, I will," she cut him off. She obviously still irritated from losing her hotel room, and so Trip decided not to bother her on the matter any more.

"No, it's fine," he resigned. He unbuckled his own seatbelt and stepped out to help her. "Done this before?"

"A couple times." Georgia shrugged. Having spread out the several blankets she owned, she climbed inside and lied down. Trip watched her with evident hesitation; was she expecting him to sleep next to her, like it was nothing? Then again, her original plan seemed to be for them to share a hotel room...

"What?" Georgia asked, noticing his expression.

"It's not even 9 p.m. yet," Trip said lamely.

"Want me to take you to a strip club?" she asked, and he glowered at her.

"I'll pass."

"Right, silly me," Georgia said with a suppressed laugh. "Why pay for a strip club when you have me in the back of a car?" She was tempted to laugh again when she saw, even in the dim lighting, his face go red. "Relax. That was a joke. Lie down."

He obeyed. He followed her suit, climbing into the car and lying beside her on the blankets. He adjusted himself for a moment, trying to get comfortable. The lack of a mattress would make for a hard night of sleeping and a sore back in the morning. At least he wasn't entering the contest like she was.

"... Do you think it's going to work tomorrow?" Trip asked after a while.

"I don't know," Georgia dismissed. She quickly realized, however, that he was asking for his own assurance, and she amended, "I think it has a pretty good shot." He appeared no more satisfied, and she added, "Your mom's going to be okay."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," he reprimanded her. Georgia nearly snapped but she bit her tongue and took a moment to let her surge of frustration dissolve.

"Sorry," she apologized. "I don't know what to say in this kind of situation."

He pressed his lips together.

"It's all right. I wouldn't either," he conceded. A brief silence fell, but in it, any lingering tension resolved thanks to her apology and his acceptance of it. Georgia sucked in her breath then rolled her head toward him.

"Well, I _can _promise that there are people doing everything they can to save your mom, and others," she offered.

"I know." He nodded, then also turned his head toward her. "I hope they succeed, too. Not just for obvious reasons, but because I know Iris will never forgive herself if she dies. She keeps a pretty strong front for everything she goes through, but she's good at the self-blame game. Not as good as Cilan, but still."

"Three of you are pretty close, aren't you?" Georgia rose her head and rested it on her hand. "Plus Ritchie."

"Yeah." Trip folded his hands over his chest. "Dying really has a way of bringing people together."

She snorted and said, "I can't believe I got dragged into your mess."

He knew what she meant: Even after seven years, they were still entangled in the politics of the preceding Champions. And now, she was tied up in the knots, too. All he could say to this, though, was, "Sorry."

"Don't apologize," she told him. "If I hadn't, I wouldn't have had the chance to get to know you."

The beautiful, bluish hue of her eyes were distinguishable even in the dark. He swallowed and briefly turned his head away.

"Don't say things like that," he said. "It makes me want to..."

"Want to what?" Georgia asked, though it sounded like she already knew the answer, and that gave Trip the courage he needed to finish that statement.

He looked straight at her again and said, "It makes me want to kiss you."

Georgia, perhaps unsurprisingly, only smirked.

"Well, I'm not stopping you," she said.

This was a clear invitation on Georgia's standards, and Trip was more than willing to accept. He grasped the side of her face and gently pressed his lips to hers. She kissed him back—but softness wasn't what she wanted, and she was quick to deepen this first kiss before eagerly going in for a second one. Then a third. Then, she she went for his neck.

* * *

It was strange, being in an empty, open-air stadium at night. Drew was used to seeing them alive with people, with light, with a palpable sense of excitement hanging in the air—not an ominous feeling of dread. Most of the staff had left for the night, as had the volunteers, and Don George had turned over the keys to Drew earlier before wishing him luck. Drew had suppressed a laugh then, because they needed all the luck they could get.

"I can't believe it's here already." Drew jolted in surprise when May—he hadn't noticed she was there beside him at all, leaning against the railing overlooking the field—spoke. Her smile widened before she rolled her head toward him and added, "It feels just like last week that we were putting together a staff list in that café."

"A lot has happened since then," he noted. The words were agreeable, but tone was everything, and May frowned.

"Yeah..." Her voice briefly faded. Then, she said, "Kenny and Dawn left together."

"I know." Drew nodded. "Maybe one thing will get solved tonight."

"Maybe tomorrow, many things will," May added hopefully. She touched his face before she kissed him, wanting to reassure him.

"Uh..."

May and Drew pulled themselves apart and glanced behind them to see Ash.

"Hi, Ash." May beamed at him. Her cheeks were tinted pink, mildly embarrassed that he had caught them at an intimate moment, but she was nevertheless happy to see him.

"Hey, May." Ash smiled weakly. Clearly, he was equally embarrassed.

"Where's your posse?" Drew was more unamused than anything. "I would've expected for at least your girlfriend and brother to be around."

"Ah, Misty took Pikachu and went back to the hotel," Ash answered. Drew calling Misty his girlfriend had briefly thrown him off. He hadn't told him, or May, that he and Misty were now an item, but Misty might have. Then it occurred to him that Drew might have been ignorantly snarky. He continued, "Silver just disappears sometimes."

"Where to?"

"I don't know." Ash shook his head. "He couldn't have gone _too _far, though. He left some stuff in our room." The topic bothered him, judging by his expression, and Drew couldn't blame him. He was half-surprised Silver was still around, and it mystified him why he was.

"So did you need to talk to us about anything?" May asked kindly.

"Not really, I guess..." Ash shrugged. "I just wanted to check in. I told everyone else to go on ahead."

"Well, I'm okay!" May offered him. She then turned an eye to Drew, inquiring, "Drew?"

He was silent in response. Both May and Ash knew what this meant, and Ash remarked, "Not as okay, huh?"

Drew let out an exasperated sigh and turned toward the field again. "I could be throwing away months of hard work away tomorrow," he said. "It's hard not to get frustrated."

"You're not throwing away anyone's hard work," Ash assured him, giving him a pat on the shoulder. "If this works, and Team Plasma comes, that means we could actually maybe figure out where they are and if they have a treatment for Virus X. It could save lives."

"Well, when you put it that way..." Drew trailed off. He suddenly added, "You always keep my head on straight, Ash Ketchum." Drew turned to his companions once more as he slid his hands into his pockets. "Let's just hope Team Plasma shows tomorrow, then."

_**July 16th, 2009. Late Evening. Opelucid City.**_

Zoey heard a haze of warm, charming voices in the next room the moment she stepped through the door, and she immediately knew. With a sigh, she pushed the door closed with her hip and sauntered toward the noise. Sure enough, she found Paul—more dressed down than she was used to seeing him, with his hair tied back into a ponytail—sitting on his sofa, watching the news.

"Someday, I'll charge one of you idiots for breaking and entering," he remarked without even looking her way.

"The door was unlocked," Zoey informed him flatly. Her eyes trailed toward the television. The commentators were talking about him and his allegedly suicidal behavior. "Arceus, you're just like Dawn." She quickly located the remote and turned off the set. Paul drew back into the cushion of his sofa with a low growl rumbling in his throat.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, finally making eye contact.

"I'm here to drill some sense into you," she declared.

"Oh boy." His voice was dripping with unenthusiasm. Zoey sucked in her breath.

"Look..." she started with a gentler tone. "What happened is awful. That article is awful. Ciara Skelley is an awful person. I feel terrible that it happened; everyone does. Everyone sympathizes with you. And, you and Dawn need to talk."

"Somehow I knew you were going to say that."

"You've ignored each other for weeks despite a lot of unresolved..." Zoey suddenly wished she would have rehearsed this conversation through a couple more times on the drive there. "... issues. Like Torterra."

"You sound just like Caitlin," Paul scoffed, and Zoey straightened up.

"So it's true, then?" she asked in a matter-of-fact way. "You are seeing a therapist?"

"Of course it is." It was almost like he wanted to make her sound stupid. "If it wasn't, I wouldn't care about the article."

"It's nothing to be ashamed of," Zoey tried to reassure him. "It's a good thing. That article presented it in a bad light, but you seeing someone is good. I think a lot of us have had the impression something was..." She paused and groped for the right word when he gave her a warning stare. "... off."

"It doesn't matter," Paul dismissed. "I didn't want anyone to know. I didn't want it to..."

"I know." Zoey nodded. She paused again before she asked, "Tell me, what's the most personal thing you know about me?"

He stared at her, trying to dissect her intentions. Zoey expected this. She held firm. His eyes strayed away, thinking. Then, he said, "You have a tattoo of a West Sea Gastrodon on your hip."

Zoey raised an eyebrow.

"How'd you know that?"

"I saw it once when you stretched and your shirt rode up," he explained.

Zoey half-laughed in distaste, saying, "Glad to know you're looking."

"I wasn't _looking_," Paul corrected. "It was just there in front of me."

"Mhm." Zoey sounded unimpressed. "Well, whatever. That hardly counts. Something _personal_ you know about me." When he said nothing, Zoey rolled her eyes, wondering if this was going to be of any use of all. "Geez."

"I also know Candice has a tattoo of an East Sea Gastrodon on her shoulder," Paul said suddenly, a little quickly, catching Zoey off guard. "And I've drawn my conclusions. That personal enough for you?"

Zoey stared. Her mouth felt a little dry.

"Well done," she eventually commended, begrudgingly so.

"Answer me this: Why are you keeping your relationship with Candice a secret?" Paul asked, leaning back into his sofa again.

"It's not that either of us are ashamed." Zoey's tone told that she wasn't either. "But there are potential repercussions from having a public relationship." She almost sounded scientific about it.

"Repercussions?" Paul repeated dryly.

"You ever wonder why I don't talk about my parents?" Zoey asked him.

"Yeah, you don't talk about them because you don't talk _to _them," Paul replied. "Why do they matter?"

"They don't. It's what they represent that matters."

"The fallout." Paul already knew. He then threw her question back in her face, saying, "You ever wonder why Dawn and I broke up?"

"That's different." Zoey was becoming more frustrated.

"It's not," Paul insisted. He was almost angry now. "You're a hypocrite. You've come here to lecture me about protecting myself against something you're afraid of." Zoey was rolling her eyes again and sighing, but Paul pressed on, "You saw what happened to Barry, too."

"Of course," Zoey cut in before he could go any further. "Of course I saw what happened to Barry, and yes, I'm cautious because of it. I didn't break up with Candice because of it, though. You, however, did." He glowered at her. She continued, "This is getting off my original point. The reason why I asked what the most personal thing you know about me is was because I wanted to prove that everyone has things that private to them, but that people who care about you aren't going to let it affect their perception of you. You know I'm dating Candice, and you still treat me the same way you treated me when we first met."

"And what's that?"

"With slight contempt and respect," she answered. "I don't think any differently of you. No one else that matters does either. We're just worried." When he said nothing again, Zoey asked, "What's it going to take to get you and Dawn to talk again? What's holding you back? Is it pride? Embarrassment? Are you mad at her?"

"Yes, yes, and yes," Paul replied. "Look, I know Dawn and I need to talk. I'm not an idiot. But I don't even know where to start."

"Maybe 'I'm sorry,' if you are," Zoey suggested. "Or maybe 'Thank you,' because you know she's going to apologize to you."

Paul, perhaps surprisingly, pressed his lips together, considering her words.

"I'm not going down to Nimbasa Town tonight," he eventually decided.

"You don't have to," Zoey said.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Paul appeared deeply cautious.

"It means nothing." Zoey picked up the remote and tossed it to him. "Watch your damn TV. Something other than the news."

Paul, now resentful, wouldn't touch the power button at first. But Zoey gave him a look—a familiar one, one that said, "Are you really going to act like a child now?"—and he eventually gave in, turning the television back on and flipping through channels until he landed on Proteam Omega. It was the animated show Barry and Kenny loved. Paul had never sat down and watched anything from it, but it had been background noise before.

Zoey plopped down on another sofa and pulled out her phone. She started texting someone. Paul watched her suspiciously, expecting her to try to talk to him again. She wouldn't have left Nimbasa Town unless she felt like she could accomplish something with him, and she wouldn't return until she did.

Yet, the silence persisted between them. They nearly got through an entire episode, though neither were really watching, when there was a knock at the front door. Zoey immediately stood.

"If it's Leaf, tell her I'm not here," Paul instructed her. Zoey didn't respond.

He couldn't hear who was there over the television, so he shut it off. The door closed, and Paul guessed Zoey had sent whoever had showed up (hopefully Leaf) away. He was wrong. Instead of Zoey, Dawn walked into the room.

Paul stared.

"I was set up," he realized.

Dawn blinked and suddenly looked a little nervous, and a little disgruntled.

"I was, too," she said.

"Yes, you were forced to walk through the door," Paul said sarcastically.

"I was told you wanted to talk," Dawn clarified, "but I'm guessing from your tone that isn't true."

They were at an impasse. Paul knew he needed to decide what to do. He could tell Dawn was mortified, even if she was doing well not to show it, and he couldn't blame her. She had walked into this conversation with a completely different impression than reality, and now she was stuck.

"Sit down," he said. She did, where Zoey previously sat.

"I'm sorry," she began. It only took a few moments for her to reach those words.

"Zoey told me you'd say that," Paul remarked. "Why?"

"Why... did Zoey say... ?" Dawn turned her head, flinching, confused by the ambiguity of his "Why?"

"Why are you sorry?" he repeated. Dawn folded her hands in her lap and cast her gaze down.

"I told Leaf I thought you needed help," she admitted.

Paul pursed his lips.

"I know," he said, a little quietly. No one had ever told him, but he knew the playing field. The only way Leaf could know—the only way _anyone _could know—is if Dawn said something. And suddenly, he became angry.

"You're not sorry," he spat. "You're gratified. You were right."

"Maybe I'm not sorry I told Leaf, but I am sorry it got out," Dawn defended. "I know you blame me. Not just for the article, but for Torterra, too. I don't know if you're going to forgive me on either count—maybe you _can't_—but I'm still sorry."

This struck Paul, and he lowered his head, too.

"I don't—blame you," he said carefully. "... Pokémon take after their trainers. Torterra did the same thing I would have."

Dawn's bottom lip briefly quivered.

"It wasn't self-sacrifice, it was—"

"—Yeah, I know," Paul, annoyed again, cut her off before she could finish. "It was an error. It was trainer error, and that cost him. I was hoping you'd play along so I could actually talk myself into believing it. At least Leaf had the courtesy of doing that." He then huffed and conceded, "Then again, Leaf wasn't there to know."

"It wasn't just your errors, it was mine," Dawn hastily tried amend. "It was us."

"Don't make me hate you," he warned.

"I'm surprised you already don't," Dawn said candidly.

"You're incredibly obnoxious, but I don't hate you." His tone softened up again, if only a little. "I'll probably never hate you, if I'm being honest."

Dawn wrung her hands together, observing him. She didn't get to see him much, but his appearance—his face—had become a reflection of his wellbeing. He wasn't as bad off as he was immediately after Torterra died, but he wasn't doing as well as he was when she last saw him while looking for the Unova base.

"Have you been doing better, seeing Caitlin?" she asked.

"I suppose," he answered with no elaboration.

"What's the diagnosis, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I'm surprised Leaf didn't tell you," he mumbled.

"I didn't ask," Dawn said. "I didn't want to pry."

Paul didn't know what to make of that.

"Depression," he answered. Dawn nodded, processing this. Depression. She should have known, thinking about it. The signs were obvious enough. Although, she supposed that was exactly why she ended up going to Leaf.

"Has she—Caitlin—put you on medication?" Dawn asked.

"Not yet," Paul replied. "She will, once she figures out that you're not the cure to my problems."

"I could've told her that," Dawn said. "The problems were there before we broke up."

"Any other questions you want to get out of the way, or are we done clearing the air?" Paul was evidently tired of the conversation now, and Dawn knew she was pushing her limit. Yet, she couldn't resist.

"Yeah, one," Dawn started. "Why _did _you break up with me?"

"Don't tell me you've been agonizing over that for the past month," Paul grumbled.

"No." Dawn shook her head. "But I still want to know."

Paul thought over his answer for only a moment. Then, he said, "I was angry, at you, in that moment, because I knew you were right."

"If it was a momentary thing, then why did we stay broken up?" Dawn pressed. "Normal couples, when they break up in anger, they make up a day later and get back together."

"Were we ever a normal couple?"

"... I guess not." Dawn fell back.

Paul knew she wasn't satisfied with his response. He wasn't satisfied with himself, especially because he knew if they didn't close it up now, they'd have to address the issue again. It was also because he knew it _would _keep bothering her, and worse, it would keep bothering him.

"We didn't get back together for the same reason we broke up: Because I knew you were right," Paul said.

"So it was pride?" Dawn asked.

"It was realizing I was so numb to feeling emotions that I couldn't love you—" Paul couldn't stop himself from saying it. "—not in the way I was supposed to." Dawn's eyes widened, and Paul, after weeks of deflecting and ignoring and stonefacing, finally broke down and told the truth. "I knew breaking up with you was a mistake, and I missed you, but getting back together meant I would continue only giving you a fraction of what you deserve."

Dawn unraveled her hands and laid them on her knees.

"I can't tell if you're saying you never loved me or that you love me still," she said.

"Me neither," he admitted.

For a while, neither said anything. Neither moved. Dawn was the first to break the tense still painting. She slid off her sofa and onto his, next to him, so she could press her lips against his. He didn't respond.

"What was that for?" he asked when she pulled back.

"I was trying to help you figure it out." She dropped her hand off his shoulder. "I don't believe that you've never loved me."

"Why's that?"

"Maybe you don't feel love like other people do, but I don't believe that you lack love," Dawn said frankly. "If you couldn't love, then that would mean you didn't care. But you _do_ care, about your brother, about Cedar, about Torterra, about Leaf, about Iris, about..."

"About you," he finished for her. Their eyes were locked. Her hand now covered his. "I don't blame you," he repeated. Then, he added, "I'm sorry."

Dawn didn't know what to say, and Paul couldn't stand his own inaction anymore—so he kissed her, too.

_**April 6th, 2004. Early Evening. Twinleaf Town.**_

The rain was coming.

Driving on slick roads was dangerous, especially for someone who was new at it. Dawn was insistent she needed the experience and that there was "no need to worry," and Paul supposed he'd always had a taste for chaos. Still, he was half-thankful for his still-beating heart by the time they turned onto her street and pulled in front of her house.

"Ease on the break," he instructed her. She slammed on it, and it was lucky they were only going 5 miles per hour in a neighborhood. The car jolted, as did both the driver and the passenger. "I said _ease_."

"Sorry," Dawn apologized sheepishly. Paul said nothing; he unbuckled his seatbelt and started gathering the things at his feet, wanting to protect them from the rain as best as he could. Yet, he soon realized Dawn was watching him, and he turned his head toward her, giving her an odd look.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing." She smiled. "Thanks for taking me driving today."

"... Sure."

"Think I'll be ready for my driver's test?" she asked, almost playfully.

"Yeah," he mumbled. "Give it another two years."

Dawn frowned, pouting.

"Very funny," she said. Paul returned to his things, but his attention was arrested when her hand unexpectedly slid over his knee. He gave her another strange look.

"Hey," she started in a very quiet, very gentle voice. She had been quiet and gentle before, but it was never like this. There was something different, something new, something with gravity, in her voice. Her eyes were different, too. They were larger, clearer, sure, and unsure, at the same time. "I love you."

It was the first time she had ever said it. It was the first time he had ever heard it. _Maybe _Reggie had said it once or twice, _maybe_, but he couldn't remember then. It had never occurred to Paul that maybe someone could love him, someone who wasn't obligated to love him, someone who didn't have the context of his childhood innocence to sway their opinion—only him, as he was, now.

The color in his face didn't change, but the stiff coherency of his words did.

"I—" he started, not knowing what to say. "I'm—I do—I do, too. You. To you."

Dawn knew what he meant. She laughed, kissed him, and pressed her head into his shoulder. Paul absently pressed his lips against her temple and suddenly realized he was trapped. Not because he hadn't meant it when he said he loved her (in uncharacteristically bungled terms), but because he had.

_**July 16th, 2009. Evening. Unknown Location.**_

It was fantastic. Everything about it was fantastic.

He had never seen so many _happy _Pokémon, genuinely delighting in their own fires, and their own fireworks, and their own storms, and the many other unique abilities that each held. And N was confused, because they were with people, and they were working with those people. Trainers. How could they be happy? Suddenly, he _had_ to know where this place was; he had to know if this was the truth, if the Pokémon were truly happy.

"_N._"

Of course. He should have known. It was a dream.

"_N!_"

N gasped aloud as he awoke, and as the visions faded from his eyes, he saw his sisters Anthea and Concordia standing at his bedside. There was evident concern in their eyes. He had been thrashing in his sleep when they arrived, but they had not arrived because he was thrashing in his sleep.

"Anthea, Concordia—" he started excitedly, before either of them could speak. "I saw—I saw something—there were Pokémon, and they were doing incredible things, beautiful things—"

"—N," Anthea suddenly, gently cut him off. "We have to go."

N blinked, confused. His elation deflated.

"Go? Why?" he asked.

"Anthea and I snuck into the forbidden room," Concordia spoke up. "We saw all the Pokémon there. There are terrible things happening to them."

"Terrible things?" N sat up in alarm.

"We read some notes and—" Concordia continued. "Colress is a bad man. And father..."

"What about father?" N was standing now, too. There was a wild anger growing in his eyes. "What did you read? What did you see?"

"N, we have to go," Anthea quietly repeated.

N sucked in his breath, trying to collect himself. Then, in a calm, low voice, he said, "Show me first."

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_A/N: Apologies for the long delay. I was busy graduating college._


	27. XXVI: In Which N Hits His Head (Again)

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Chapter XXVI: In Which N Hits His Head (Again)

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_**July 17th, 2009. Early Morning. Opelucid City.**_

When Paul awoke early that morning, his initial belief was that everything that had happened—everything he _thought _had happened—was a dream, a hallucination drudged up by his own depression. He was alone in bed—nude, sure, but it was summer, and it wasn't unconscionable—and there was no sign anyone else had been there the previous evening, so he slowly rose to his feet and headed toward the bathroom door.

That was when he heard the shower running. He wasn't sure why he only heard it now, but he did. His hand stopped against the doorknob as he let the sound, and the reality of yesterday, sink into him. His mouth twitched into a smirk, and he pulled away from the door, dressed himself, and left for the kitchen.

Paul was leaning against the counter, halfway finished with a bowl of cereal, when he heard Dawn's heels trekking against the wood flooring coming up the hallway. She soon appeared in the same room, wearing a plain black pencil skirt and blouse, and her eyes widened upon seeing him. Paul raised his eyebrows at the change in her expression, of which she seemed aware.

"I... haven't seen you up this early in a while," she offered as an explanation, without him ever having to inquire.

"I slept well," Paul said simply, scrapping together another bite of cereal. Dawn flushed pink and folded her arms; she wasn't sure what to say to that. Paul lifted his eyes toward her and gave her a once-over before asking, "So did you know you were staying the night and come prepared? Or do you just carry extra outfits around with you?"

Paul had noticed she wasn't wearing the same thing as yesterday, as was typical of one-night stands—if that's what it was. Dawn looked down at herself and smoothed over a wrinkle in her skirt.

"It was in one of your drawers," she explained. "Zoey must have missed it when she came to pick up my things."

An unintended tension lingered behind those words. It occurred to them that, despite what had happened between them, they had still broken up two months earlier. Paul set his finished bowl aside on the counter.

"About last night..." he started carefully, but Dawn interrupted him before he could finish.

"Stop," she said, shaking her head.

"What?"

"I know what you're going to say." There was an ache in her voice.

"Oh really?" Paul looked unimpressed, doubtful even, but Dawn continued anyway.

"Yes," she insisted. "That it was a mistake, that we got caught up in the moment, that you were vulnerable and—" She briefly faltered. "—Well, you wouldn't _admit _you were vulnerable, but..." She was rambling, and Paul soon had enough.

"It wasn't a mistake," he cut her off, catching her by surprise. "At least, it wasn't for me. Maybe it's different in your case."

"N-No," Dawn said quickly, holding up her hands. "I don't think it was a mistake. I just..." She trailed off, unsure of where she was going. She brushed a loose strand of hair out of her face, nervous. "So, about last night... ?" she prodded him.

"Right." Paul glanced down, gathering his thoughts. He looked back up before saying, "I... am still not in a good place. The reason why our relationship deteriorated was because I was not in a good place, and I couldn't be an adequate... boyfriend." The word felt weird on his tongue. It had always felt weird. "It wasn't fair to you. It wouldn't be fair to you if we were in a relationship again right now, and things between us would just sour again."

"I don't think that's true," Dawn gently disagreed.

"All the same, there are some things I'd like to work out before you and I think about getting back together," Paul said.

It was hard to hear, but it wasn't as hard to hear as Dawn might have thought. In fact, she was half-amazed they were having this conversation at all; for Paul to be this open with her, this exposed, was rare. Eventually, Dawn was able to swallow the sting of grief in her throat and smile.

"I understand." She nodded, mellow. A brief silence followed, and Dawn glanced behind her, adding, "I need to go. I'm expected in Nimbasa Town soon. I'm guessing you're not coming?"

"No," Paul answered bluntly.

"Well, I'll see you later, then." Dawn started to move away, toward her exit. As she turned, however, Paul quickly called out to her.

"Dawn." She stopped and looked back at him. He approached, and she faced him again just before he leaned down to kiss her. He hardly drew back at all, their foreheads still touching when he said, "You were right. And I meant what I said last night."

Dawn's hand, which had wove its way onto his shoulder when he kissed her, slid down his arm. "I know," she said, smiling again.

_**July 17th, 2009. Morning. Nimbasa Town.**_

Burgundy's head was pounding—and so was the door. She groaned, feeling the heavy-handed effects of her hangover, as she regained consciousness. Her other senses were soon to follow, touch being one of the first, and that was when she felt the warmth of another person beside her. She cast her gaze behind her and saw Chili, asleep, with his head resting atop her shoulder and his arms locked around her waist. The heat of his breath skimmed the surface of her neck.

She made an annoyed noise, but lifted her hand and brushed away a curly lock of his hair that was covering part of his face—a sign of tenderness. She faced forward again and reached for her phone on the nightstand. It was a habit of hers to check her phone as soon as she woke up every morning, and Chili was blocking her view of the alarm clock anyway.

Yet, as soon as she unlocked the screen, her stomach dropped. She had a missed call from Georgia. The pounding on the door started again.

"_Burgundy! I know you're in there._" It was none of other than Georgia herself. If Burgundy wasn't awake before, she was now. She tore Chili's locked hands off her and, turning on her hip, shook his shoulder.

"Get up," she hissed. "Chili, get up."

"Mm? What is it?" Chili lazily lifted his head and yawned.

"Georgia's at the door, so get up." Burgundy pushed him fully off her and rose up, now in an angered panic.

"And do what?" Chili asked, raising his upper body.

"Hide!" Burgundy exclaimed in an exasperated whisper. She did _not _want Georgia to hear their exchange; she did not want Georgia to know there was an exchange of _anything_ between her and Chili. Burgundy collected his and her clothes, scattered across the floor, and threw them into a drawer.

"Where?" Chili questioned her.

"_Burgundy.._." Georgia's warning voice came again.

"Coming!" Burgundy called to her before she, returning to a hushed tone, told Chili, "I don't know—behind the bed!" She tore open the closet door and ripped out one of the bathrobes. Chili glowered at her as she pulled it around herself.

"Oh come on, I was enjoying the view," he pouted.

"Behind the bed. _Now_," Burgundy ordered, and he finally rolled under the sheets, off the edge, and out of view. Burgundy quickly checked herself in the mirror above the desk, fixing her hair and wiping away some grotty mascara beneath her eyes—she hadn't cleaned off her make-up in the passion of the evening—before heading to the door. She unlocked it and swung it open to reveal an annoyed Georgia who had her arms crossed.

"Hey, I need to use your shower," Georgia said without any other greeting.

"Uh—no, I was about to use it myself." Burgundy leaned against the doorway to block Georgia's view of the room, in case Chili tried to peek over the edge of the sheets.

"Fine, I can wait." Georgia shrugged and managed to push past her anyway. She was headed toward the bed.

"Wait, no!" Burgundy panicked, grabbing Georgia's shoulder and forcing her to turn the other way. "It's okay. You can use it first." Georgia gave her an odd look, and Burgundy let her hand fall off her shoulder. "I-I'm sorry about last night. I saw I missed a call from you, and I feel awful."

"Yeah..." Georgia clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "You know, normally, I would be mad, but why ruin the morning afterglow?"

Burgundy's felt a chill in her bones.

"A-Afterglow?" she stammered, fearing Georgia had somehow spotted Chili in her entrance and figured out what had happened.

Yet, Georgia only smiled wryly and said, "I got laid last night."

Burgundy blinked.

"Y-_You_? You?" she nervously questioned her friend. She was still holding her breath.

"Ooh, sorry, am I rubbing it in?" Georgia teased, and Burgundy relaxed again, realizing Georgia wasn't suspicious of anything.

"Who was it?" Burgundy asked, ignoring the provocation. Georgia raised her eyebrow in a disbelieving "Are you kidding me?" sort of way.

"Hm. I'll give you two guesses," she said dryly, and it occurred to Burgundy that Georgia had told her yesterday whom she planned to spend the day with.

"_Trip_?" Burgundy was floored. "You slept with _Trip_ last night?" She had suspected Georgia's interest in the other trainer given his increasing participation in dates that were typically reserved for only her and Georgia, but Georgia usually announced her intentions to have sex with someone to Burgundy.

"I don't need your judgments," Georgia scoffed.

"I'm not judging you, I'm just... surprised, I guess," Burgundy said.

"Well, whatever," Georgia dismissed with a wave of her hand. "He's going to need the shower, too. He went to grab a cup of coffee, and I came up here."

"Right..." Burgundy trailed off. "Well, it's all yours."

"Thanks." Georgia snapped up an extra towel and headed toward the bathroom door, but turned before entering and winked, adding, "I can give you the _intimate _details later if you want them. The final assessment, though? Not bad for a first timer."

"Great," Burgundy grumbled. "Take your shower." Georgia only smirked and disappeared behind the door.

Hearing it close, Chili's head rose from behind the bed, and he grinned before saying, "Well, looks like you're not the _only _girl who got lucky last night." Burgundy rolled her eyes, collected his pants from the drawer she'd stuffed them into, and threw them at his face.

"Shut up and get dressed."

* * *

The unpacked bag sat alone on the chair, taunting him. Ash would steal a glance at it every so often, as if something about it would change, as if its owner would suddenly appear to rifle through its contents. He never did though, and there was a growing sense of dread in the pit of Ash's stomach. Pikachu noticed his trainer becoming increasingly distraught and tried to call out to him, but he was ignored. That was when the Pokémon decided to give his trainer an electrical-charged nip on the hand, which quickly snapped Ash out of his funk.

"Wha—ow." Ash shook this sting out of his hand. "Uh... sorry, Pikachu. Guess I kinda spaced out there, huh?" He then turned and reached for a red and white cape draped over the back of the chair. He held the material out in front of him, admiring it for a moment, before pulling it around his shoulders. He then grinned at Pikachu, who gave him a thumbs up.

"Looking pretty slick there, Ash Ketchum."

Ash perked up and turned to see Misty leaning against the doorframe of his hotel room. She grinned, too, before asking, "You ready to leave? We're getting breakfast before the doors open."

"Yeah, just got dressed and everything." Ash dramatically pulled the edge of his cape in front of him and let it slowly fall for effect. Misty raised an eyebrow, and Pikachu chuckled to himself.

"Ash, this isn't a Super Contest," Misty reminded him.

"Sure, but plenty of coordinators still dress up in regular contests." Ash shrugged. "Hey, you know, if I become Champion, I ought to wear something like this more often. It'll be a part of my 'look.'"

"Since when have you ever cared about how you look?" Misty asked dryly.

"I've always liked looking cool," Ash protested, "especially for pretty redheads."

"Mhm," Misty hummed, unconvinced. "Come on, let's go."

"All right, all right..." He extended an arm toward Pikachu, let him climb up, and started to head out. Yet, he caught another glimpse of the untouched bag on the chair, and he stopped.

"Hey, Misty?" he started.

"Yeah?" Misty threw a glance at him over her shoulder.

"Did'ja see Silver this morning, by chance?" Ash asked.

She paused. Her eyes fell as her face darkened.

"No," she replied.

The distress was evident in Ash's expression as he continued, "It's just... you know, he talks a lot about how people are after him—and they are. He told me about how N had to save him from some other Team Plasma members, so I guess I'm just worried."

"This is not the first time Silver has vanished on us," Misty pointed out. Ash seemed no less upset, so Misty added, reassuringly, "Silver has managed to take care of himself for 10 years. I'm sure wherever he is, he's fine. ... There's not much we can do at this point, anyway. If he doesn't turn up by the end of the contest, we'll talk to Leaf."

Ash nodded slowly, then said, "Okay."

Silence hung between them, suggesting Ash was still unsatisfied, but before Misty could say anything further, Serena appeared at the mouth of the room.

"Hi," she greeted with a small wave. "We're waiting on you two."

"Ah, right!" Ash immediately perked up, not wanting to give her a negative impression. "Sorry for the hold-up." He and Pikachu hurried off, past Serena—yet, Misty lingered, and Serena noticed her sour mood.

"You okay?" Serena asked her.

"Silver's gone AWOL again," Misty mumbled in response. Serena frowned. She hardly knew Silver at all, but this seemed to be the pattern; she had caught wind of Silver's proclivity for disappearing from when the others told her of his great abandonment seven years earlier. Yet, when she glanced around the room, she was quick to notice his bag on the chair.

"He's left some of his stuff here," she said, pointing to it.

"He left it so Ash would know he hadn't left for good."

"That's good, isn't it? It means he cares," Serena insisted, but Misty shook her head.

"Not enough to tell Ash what he's doing, though," she said.

* * *

"Iris, dear, answer your phone," Cilan half-mumbled as he concentrated on buttoning up his white shirt. Iris herself had only just finished dressing herself for the day ahead when he cell phone began vibrating on the nightstand, and Cilan's reminder caused her to quickly swipe up the device and check the caller ID. She quirked an eyebrow at the name before answering.

"Georgia?" she inquired.

"_Hey, just wanted to know if you needed me this morning,_" Georgia responded. There was a knock at the door, and being that both he and his wife were appropriately dressed again, Cilan gave the OK for their visitor to enter. Cress slid inside with a troubled expression, ready to speak, but he held his tongue when he noticed his sister-in-law was on the phone.

"For what?" Iris asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"_Gee, I don't know—maybe for that secret plan to lure Team Plasma to us with the contest?_" Georgia dryly shot back.

"Are... you not entering?" Iris was unclear on what Georgia expected of her.

"_I'm still entering,_" Georgia coolly responded, and Iris finally understood.

"All you need to do is go to the stadium and enter into the contest," she explained. "There are really no special instructions, other than if you see someone suspicious, let someone know."

"_Got it,_" Georgia replied shortly, confidently. "_By the way, full disclosure: I had sex with Trip last night._"

This confession caught Iris off guard. She hit the breaks in her mind, replaying the words over to check if Georgia had really said them before stammering, "W-What?"

"_Trip and I—_"

"I heard you the first time; you don't need to repeat it," Iris cut her off. "Why are you telling me this?"

"_Look, I didn't really read over the contract Mr. Goodshow gave me too carefully, so I don't know if there's some kind of clause prohibiting employees of the league from dating each other,_" Georgia said honestly.

"There isn't," Iris said flatly, pressing a hand to her face.

"_Oh. Great, then._" Georgia's tone had remained positive, self-assured even, throughout the entire exchange, and Iris suddenly realized—or theorized—that Georgia had not actually wanted to know whether "she was needed" or not.

"Did you literally just call me to brag?" Iris asked, flabbergasted. "Because I'm married."

"_Meaning you'll never feel the magic of sleeping with someone new again,_" Georgia taunted. "_See you at the contest._" She promptly hung up, and Iris pulled her phone away from her ear, glowering at the device.

"What was that about?" Cilan asked, blinking.

"Nothing." Iris dropped the phone into her lap, clutched her head, and groaned, as if she had a headache. She then drew her fingers through her hair and rose up again, declaring, "I need to talk to Leaf."

She headed for the door, just as someone else was trying to enter it: Chili. She passed him without comment, and Chili shot her an inquisitive look before returning his gaze toward his brothers. He grinned and waved, greeting, "Hey, what's up?"

Cress appeared annoyed.

"Chili, where have you been?" he asked. "You were supposed to come to the hotel here late last night. I was getting worried."

"Sorry, I got caught up in some other things," Chili replied sheepishly.

Cilan, already having assessed the situation, merely shook his head and said, "I can tell."

"What?" Chili gave him a confused look.

"You're wearing the same clothes as yesterday," Cilan remarked calmly. "Who is she?" Others might have been embarrassed at the discovery of their late-night mischief; yet, Chili let on a sly grin.

"Someone you know, actually," he answered with a wink. "By the way, I'm still working on that whole plot to get Burgundy to enter the contest." Now it was Cilan's turn to be confused; Cress picked up on their triplet brother's insinuation right away, though, and pinched the bridge of his nose before sighing.

"What plot?" Cilan questioned him. "Chili, who—" He stopped short. It was then that he understood, too, and his expression changed. He stared at Chili in disbelief for a moment before also sighing and continuing, "We have to be at the stadium soon. Your clothes are in Cress's room. You ought to get changed."

* * *

"Don't be nervous," Leaf reassured with indefinite attentiveness; her attention was divided between Iris and whoever she was texting, presumably either Gary or Drew, maybe Lance. "There will be a G-Men agent stationed near the judge's table. Trust me, nothing bad will happen to you."

Iris had pulled up a chair near the edge of the bed where Leaf sat, and she frowned upon this statement.

"Well, I'm nervous," she sighed. "And I'm also scared this isn't going to work."

Leaf sighed, too, and set her phone down to speak with Iris more directly.

"It's going to work," Leaf insisted. "Team Plasma comprises a bunch of radicals who will do anything to shut down the league and any other institution associated with Pokémon training. They're going to want to make a demonstration today, and when they do, we'll get them."

"And what's that going to do for us?" Iris questioned her. "We have Barret Dunstan, and he hasn't told us anything about Team Plasma's whereabouts. What makes us think Barret 2.0 will be any different?"

"Kind of last-minute to bringing these concerns up now, huh?" Leaf asked dryly.

"It's only occurred to me now that I'm getting cold feet," Iris admitted.

Leaf still appeared annoyed, but said, "Well, I actually have thought of these things, too. Reality is, if we get another grunt, there's a good chance we're not going to get anywhere. That's why I'm hoping N shows."

Iris blinked.

"N? ... The person Georgia hit with her car?" she asked.

"He's the 'prince of Team Plasma,'" Leaf said, "and he's obviously passionate about the cause since he was the one to appear on TV for SAMPLe. But he also has an affinity for Ash Ketchum, and Silver, so we might be able to sway him into telling us things more easily if we catch him."

"Do you think N will really come?" Iris asked, a little doubtful.

"I think Ash participating increases our chances of seeing him again," Leaf answered coolly. "I'm not opposed to twisting some arms if we get someone else, though, and that includes Barret's."

Leaf's response chilled Iris, and she became noticeably unsettled. Yet, before she could stew over a reply—or, rather, a protest—Cilan appeared in the doorway.

"You look a little disturbed," Leaf remarked, seeing him.

"I'm fine," Cilan dismissed with a small wave of his hand. "I just found out my TA and brother slept together, that's all."

"How funny, because I just found out one of my Elite Four members slept with my photographer," Iris said.

"Really?" Cilan raised an eyebrow. "How'd you learn that?"

"Georgia called to tell me," Iris answered. "And you?"

"Chili is not subtle."

"Gee, I wish I could contribute to all this excellent bedroom gossip, but I have nothing," Leaf abruptly cut in. Her tone was indistinguishable between annoyance or genuine disappointment. "I don't even have any recent stories of my own to share. I've been abstinent for a week."

This struck both Iris and Cilan as strange, though Cilan was less inclined to probe. Iris, on the other hand, saw no problem in asking, "Any reason why?"

The inquiry gave Leaf pause. She hadn't thought too deeply about it; she had simply assumed she and Gary were too stressed out to do anything. Then again, they had been unbearably stressed for weeks.

"I'm not sure, actually," Leaf admitted before standing and changing the subject. "We need to go."

_**July 17th, 2009. Morning. Opelucid City.**_

The television, turned to pre-coverage of the impending contest, was only meant to serve as background noise, something to drown out the ghastly sounds of the next room over. The cacophonic clash, however, amplified the anxiety that had been running through Clemont's veins for days, and his fingers trembled with the unused energy. He furrowed his eyebrows, concentrating on ignoring the aggravation of sound and the twitching in his limbs so he could get his work done.

"You know, you'd be able to do your job better if your hands were steady."

Clemont's head snapped up, and his eyes met a cold, silvery gaze that pricked his senses with alarm and sent a wave of unease washing down his back. Silver, who was leaning over Clemont's workspace, seemed disaffected by his behavior though, and Clemont soon regained his composure.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I... guess I'm just anxious for my sister and Serena. I want them to do well in the contest."

Silver flicked his eye toward the screen doubtfully. Without taking a step, he managed to reach for the remote.

"The contest doesn't start for several hours," Silver half-chastised, turning off the television. "Calm down." Clemont lowered his head, embarrassed, and intimidated. This was the first he had spoken with Silver one-on-one; in fact, it might have been the first time they had spoken, ever. Clemont wondered if he even knew his name and considered whether he should introduce himself, but the opportunity was lost.

"Hey, you know what would be great, Silver?" Gary strolled into the room, hands in his pockets, sunglasses placed high on the bridge of his nose. "If you could not harass our technician." Silver said nothing, and Gary soon stopped in front of him, giving him a once-over before asking, "Aren't you supposed to be in Nimbasa Town?"

"I was there. I left." Silver's immediate explanation was short, choppy, irritated. "I wanted to check out the set-up for the contest and ended up being unimpressed, so I decided I need to come back here."

"Unimpressed how?" Gary raised his eyebrows. Silver considered his response for a moment, folding his arms and casting a glance toward the ceiling with thought.

"Drew Hayden tried to do the noble thing offering up his movement as a sacrifice to bring in Team Plasma," Silver eventually answered, looking forward again. "It's clear, though, that he's not willing to let the sword actually fall."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Now Gary sounded irritated. "You don't think it's going to work?"

"It wasn't," Silver said bluntly. "We'll see what happens now, though."

"What did you do?" Gary's deep suspicion quickly became apparent.

"You're very invested in this, aren't you?" Silver asked, almost as if he were taunting him. The tension was growing, and Clemont could feel it. He did a double-take between both men.

"Of course I am," Gary said flippantly. "If everything goes right and we get who need to get, then we could find Team Plasma and find their treatment, a treatment that works."

Silver looked utterly unconvinced—of something, but Clemont wasn't sure what yet. Then, Silver asked, a little sharply, "Why are you wearing sunglasses?"

The air turned cold; at least, colder than it was before, if that was possible. Clemont looked at Silver with wide eyes, both awed and disturbed by his perceptiveness. Gary's expression was less discernible under his shades, but his tone still gave away his position.

"Fluorescent lights hurt my eyes." His resolve had weakened, but he remained highly agitated.

Silver just short of rolled his eyes before saying, "Well, your technician is either genuinely a protective big brother who's also in love with the Kalosian brunette—" Silver's eyes didn't leave Gary, though Clemont quickly flushed pink. "—or you're a liar, and he's guilty over something."

Gary didn't move. No one did. Then, he reached up and snagged the edge of his sunglasses, pulling them off and folding them up with a sigh. His gaze was cast downward, but the purple in his scleras was obvious.

There was a change in Silver's face—a softening. He pressed his lips together.

"Thought so," he said.

**July 17th, 2009. Morning. Nimbasa Town.**

"Okay, so the press box will be at the top of Section 9 on Floor 1," Zoey explained, pointing a reporter further down the tunnel. "You'll meet Barry Pearl at the door, and all you need to do is show him your press pass, and he'll let you in."

The reporter—a young, regular freelancer for The Hearthome Chronicle, Keela Baird—nodded as Zoey spoke, disgesting her instructions, before she took the press pass and hung it from her neck.

"Thank you, Zoey," Keela told her with a smile before heading off, and Zoey nodded to her appreciatively. Ursula sat beside Zoey at the press check-in table, legs crossed as she half-slumped in her chair. She was on her phone, as per usual, but she would disinterestedly watch each reporter as they passed through the tunnel. The next person, however, managed to pique Ursula's full attention.

"Hey," Dawn said breathlessly, dropping off her bag on the table after hurrying inside. "Need an extra hand?"

"Getting in a little late there, hm, Dawn?" Ursula teased her before Zoey could get in a word. "Well, better late than never, I guess. I've been doing your job in your absence."

Dawn flinched and, flustered, quickly apologized.

"Actually, it hasn't been busy, and she's been Tweeting," Zoey excused her before giving Ursula an unimpressed look. Ursula remained disaffected.

"I'm a multi-tasker," she said with a shrug.

Ursula didn't leave her chair, but Dawn still slid behind the table, and Zoey leaned closer to her, murmuring, "How did it go?"

"Good," Dawn answered with a short, cheerful tick in her tone. Zoey's lips twitched into a wry smile; Dawn's overnight absence gave her an idea of what had happened, and her good mood supported her theory.

"You can tell me about it later," Zoey said, and Dawn let out a nervous laugh.

"Sure," she agreed.

"Tell her about what?" Ursula cut in.

"Nothing," Dawn politely dismissed and wave.

Ursula looked annoyed, and after a moment, flippantly said, "Well, I clearly have nothing to gain here, so I'll be leaving." She straightened up to go, but she stopped when another reporter—a familiar one—approached the table. Both Dawn and Zoey grew tenser.

"Well, hello there," Ciara greeted with a faux sweet quality in her voice and expression. Her gaze was locked onto Dawn.

"Hi, Ciara," Zoey said; she didn't hide her distaste, but Ciara definitely didn't care.

"I wasn't talking to you, Zoey," Ciara brushed Zoey off, which visibly annoyed the redhead. She started going through the folder of press passes, looking for Ciara's, wanting to move her along as quickly as possible. Ciara only looked back at Dawn and said, "I'm surprised you're showing your face, Ms. Berlitz, after my story yesterday. Sorry. No hard feelings toward you."

"It's not me you need to apologize to." Dawn maintained her amiable tone, but she was hardly civil. "Besides, it's not the first time Coordinators Weekly has run untruthful things about me or my friends."

"Can I quote you on that?"

"Not now, Ciara," Ursula unexpectedly snapped. Dawn and Zoey both looked at her in surprise, while Ciara glowered. Zoey found Ciara's press pass, plucked it out of the bunch, and slid it toward her.

"Here's your press pass," Zoey said flatly. "The press box is at the top of Section 9 on Floor 1. Barry is at the door. You'll be lucky if he lets you in."

"I have my ways." Ciara's gaze fell upon Dawn again. "Hope to see you later, Dawn. The contest is big, but let's be honest: You're the bigger story."

She left with a swagger in her step, and by then, Zoey was simmering. "Next time, I'm going to bar her from requesting a press pass from us," she seethed. "Coordinators Weekly will have to send a different reporter."

Dawn didn't respond to Zoey's sour gripes; instead, she turned to Ursula and asked, "Do you know Ciara?"

Ursula's nail tapped against the screen of her phone. She was trying to maintain her air of nonchalance.

"She and I used to chat backstage when she still was a coordinator," she answered coolly. "Nothing major."

* * *

Iris's eyes scanned the long hallway to her right, upon which hung a line of portraits depicting past winners of the Nimbasa Club Battle Tournament, wondering whether she would end up seeing herself in one of the photos. She didn't remember anyone taking her picture when she was presented with the complete Wing set, but it was nearly eight years ago, and she had been so deliriously happy that it was entirely possible she hadn't noticed or had simply forgotten.

Iris smiled upon the memory, accompanied by the bittersweet thought that so much had changed since then, including that very stadium, which had definitely been renovated and expanded since she, Ash, and Cilan had competed there. It had been so much easier back then.

She and Cilan were following Kenny down the hallway, but he soon stopped by a metallic green door, and they followed suit. Kenny's hand fell upon the doorknob.

"All right, the big man, and the other big man are in here," he informed the couple, looking back at them, but confusion crossed Iris's expression.

"Who... are the big men?" she asked cautiously.

"Mr. Contesta, the President of the APC, and Mr. Sukizo, the President of the Pokémon Fan Club," Kenny clarified. "I'll introduce you."

"Are Cynthia and Wallace already here?" Iris asked.

"Yeah, they've already met before." Kenny nodded.

"Oh, great."

"You'll be fine, Iris," Cilan assured her.

"They're super nice guys, I promise," Kenny tried adding helpfully before opening the door and gesturing for the pair to enter. Before Kenny could get to his promised introduction, Raoul Contesta perked up upon their entrance and rose from his chosen seat with a grin.

"Well, look who it is," he greeted heartily, going to shake her hand. "Ms. Ajagara, the woman who's making this all possible."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Iris said with an unsure laugh. "So much credit has to go to Drew Hayden and all of the CIU."

Raoul raised his brow, apparently impressed. "Indeed," he agreed. "But don't downplay your contributions. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Ah, yes, it truly is remarkable." Mr. Sukizo sprung from his seat, too, and also eagerly shook Iris's hand, which estranged her.

"T-Thank you." Iris nodded to both of them. "I'm glad to meet both of you, too."

"And you as well, Mr. Griffith." Raoul acknowledge him, too, with the same gesture.

"It's a pleasure, Mr. Contesta," Cilan politely responded, shaking both their hands. "Mr. Sukizo." Iris was forcing her smile by then; she wasn't unhappy to meet the two Contest giants, but she hated the social formalities with which Cilan was so much more comfortable than her. As Champion, she had been forced into them more and more often. She was glad Cilan was at least around so she didn't have to navigate them alone.

"This is your first time judging, isn't it?" Raoul asked her.

"I've had some practice, but this is my first official event," Iris replied.

"Well, if you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask." He was formal, but grandfatherly; like a mix of Drayden and Alder, which Iris supposed she liked.

"Thank you," she told him, and Raoul and Sukizo were soon both off and chatting among themselves again, which relieved Iris. Kenny had hung back, watching the exchange, but he approached once it was over.

"Well, I've gotta be off," he said. "I'm sure May will check in with you guys soon. Good luck to you, Iris."

"Same to you, Kenny," Iris said. He left, and Iris sucked in a large breath before exhaling. Cilan offered her a sympathetic smile, recognizing she was nervous—for multiple reasons, probably. He was, too.

"Iris!"

Both Iris and Cilan perked up when her name was called. They looked to see Steven, Cynthia, and Wallace seated near a lounge; Winona was noticeably absent, but Iris remembered one of them mentioning she was looking after Emily. She didn't blame them; if she were a parent, she wouldn't want her daughter anywhere near the stadium today.

"Hi, Steven, everyone," Iris greeted, approaching. "What's going on?"

"We were just speaking with Wallace about our theories with Mega Evolution," Steven explained. "We told him you spoke with Diantha."

"Yeah, yeah, I did," Iris said with a quick nod.

"The story of her Aurorus is fascinating," Wallace said, folding his arms. "Did you request a blood sample?"

"Mhm," Iris hummed affirmatively.

"Good. That might give us a lead." Wallace seemed hopeful yet strangely disinvested.

"I'm wondering if we should speak to Lance following the contest," Steven suggested. "He's difficult to read, so I'm not sure what his feelings are about the Mew tablet. We may be able to convince him, which may convince Leaf. She values his opinion."

"Lance is an impossible person; we won't convince him," Cynthia immediately dismissed. "What about Paul?"

"You think Paul is less stubborn and unreadable?" Steven half-laughed. "He was the one who suggested the connection between Mew and the virus. Besides, Leaf _is _the person to pull on board, because Gary is the one charged with searching for a treatment."

Cynthia pressed her lips together, but begrudgingly conceded to his point. "True," she said.

Iris became increasingly anxious as this conversation progressed, and she soon cautiously, quietly, asked, "Does... this mean you all believe that what we're doing here today is... for nothing?"

"Not necessarily," Steven quickly reassured. "We do still hope Team Plasma has research on a treatment that we can use. Regardless of whether they do or not, though, I think it's still important we find them. And in the case where they don't, we'll still need to find a treatment ourselves, and that may lie in Mega Evolution."

Steven wasn't all-too convincing, however, so Iris wasn't all-too convinced. "Right," she sighed.

"Excuse me." The group looked up to see May standing nearby, and she beamed once she had their attention. "Sorry for interrupting. I just came to ask if there was anything I could get for any of you. Any water? Breakfast?"

"I've already eaten, but water would be fantastic, please," Cynthia replied.

"Sure thing, Cynthia," May answered cheerfully. "Water all around?" Murmurs of agreement followed, and May concluded, "Okay, I'll be back in a few!"

Before she could leave, however, Wallace rose to his feet and said, "Please, allow me to help you."

"I'll be all right, but thank you," May assured him.

"I insist."

"May appeared surprised, but her head eventually moved into a slow nod. "Okay," she gave in. They left, and Cynthia sighed once the two had disappeared.

"Wallace has checked out," she remarked.

"Checked out?" Cilan raised an eyebrow.

"He's not going to be Champion for much longer," Steven clarified for his wife, "and it looks like he's decided whom he wants to replace him."

This reveal caught both Cilan and Iris by surprise. They looked at each other, and then at the door where May and Wallace had gone.

"You can't be serious," Iris breathed.

* * *

Only Max and Conway were in the tech room overlooking the field when Drew arrived there. He slid inside with his question already springing from the tip of his tongue: "How is everything going?" Conway spun around in his chair to face him, while Max merely glanced over his shoulder.

"The PA is working fine," Conway answered, his hands folded in his lap. "Vivian's headset is operational, and all the judges' microphones have been tested."

"Twice?" Drew inquired.

"Yes." Conway nodded.

"Check them one more time, just to be safe," Drew requested. Conway glowered at him—Drew's perfectionism was at its worst; it wasn't even as terrible at the Q&amp;A as it was now—but he sighed, knowing he had no choice, and agreed.

"Of course," he said, rising to his feet and passing by him out the door. Drew slid into the seat Conway previously occupied and let out a heavy breath. Max was watching him, looking as though he would say something—but another spoke before he could.

"Figures you'd be an anal manager," a familiar voice remarked snidely from behind. Neither Drew nor Max had to turn around to know who it was. Drew sighed and rubbed his temple.

"Well, if Harley's here, then that means..." He slowly spun in his chair. "... Solidad?"

Sure enough, the pink-haired coordinator stood at Harley's side, and she smiled upon seeing him.

"Hello, Drew," she said. "I promised you I would be here for the contest." Drew laughed with some exasperation before heading to her to speak more directly.

"How'd you get in?" he asked.

"The doors just opened," Solidad answered. "We ran into Grace, and she directed us up here to see you."

"Are you entering?"

"No, we thought we ought to leave some space for more Unovans."

"Translation: We would've crushed them, so we saved them the embarrassment," Harley interjected with a smirk.

"I don't know, Harley," Max spoke up doubtfully. "There's some stiff competition. That Georgia Hamilton is no one to take lightly."

"Who? Obviously not a relevant person," Harley dismissed.

"She's the newest Elite Four member in Unova," Drew informed him dryly.

"That means nothing to me," Harley scoffed. "The league is corrupt and and rife with nepotism. No one actually gets picked based on their ability."

"There you go with your conspiracies again," Solidad teased him. Yet, she sounded diplomatic about it, almost as if she were chastising him for bringing it up. Drew raised an eyebrow and exchanged a look with Max.

"You know better than anyone that it's true, Solidad!" Harley glowered at her, but Solidad remained disaffected.

"Where's May?" she asked, ignoring Harley.

"She went to check on the judges," Drew replied, also shaking off Harley's remarks. "She shouldn't be too long."

* * *

"Thank you so much, Wallace," May said sincerely as she handed him another of water bottle, while balancing several of her own in her arms. One of the vendors had let her into the back of a snack bar, and she was pulling drinks from refrigerated display. "You really didn't have to do this for me."

"I wanted to," Wallace assured her, taking a fourth.

"Well, the sentiment still stands," May laughed, closing the refrigerator's door with her hip.

They left the snack bar and started heading back down the hallway, where they were alone again, at which point Wallace admitted, "It was for self-motivated reasons, really." May blinked.

"Self-motivated?" she inquired with a tilt of her head.

"I wanted to have the chance to speak with you alone," Wallace elaborated. "I've wanted to for a while now, but it was only now the opportunity presented itself."

May felt her chest tighten; she was suddenly nervous. "Oh, I see," she said. Her buoyancy had somewhat deflated. They stopped midway down the hallway back to the judges' room, and she asked, "So what do you need to to talk to me about?"

There was a pause, and May held her breath with anticipation for what she knew was to come.

"I plan on retiring from my title soon—in several years," Wallace eventually confessed. "My Elite Four member, Drake Maillard, will be retiring sooner, within six months. I need a replacement for him... and a replacement for me."

May's strength shrunk; her knees were weaker, and she felt as though she needed to sit down. She had believed this would come with fair certainty—but it was never all there, and now that the moment had arrived, she felt unprepared.

"I understand it must seem sudden to spring this on you," Wallace continued, "but I have watched you as a trainer, a coordinator, and a leader from afar for a while now. I'm genuinely impressed. You're exactly the type of person I'd like to see leading Hoenn after I leave."

May realized he expected her to reply. She wetted her lips, thinking. Her mouth had gone dry.

"Wow..." she started, sounding genuinely awed. "I'm... totally flattered and... a little overwhelmed."

"It is a lot to ask of you," Wallace conceded. "I have total confidence in you, though, and I think with some training, you could become one of the greatest Champions in Napajian history. I know it also must seem intimidating given recent events, but I promise, I will not let what Alder did to Iris happen to you."

The confidence he had in her was more swaying than she would have thought, and the promise—while she would not have thought of it or wanted it on her own—was surprisingly impactful. May pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear and looked away.

"It's a lot to think about," she said.

"It is." Wallace nodded.

"I'm going to need some time," May told him.

"How much time do you need?" he asked.

May readjusted the water bottles in her arms. She _had_ thought about this—a lot, actually. So, even though her voice remained quiet, it was with strong definitiveness when she said, "I won't have an answer for you until after Leaf and Ash battle each other."

Wallace raised an eyebrow. The response was unexpected, but he nevertheless agreed.

"Of course." He glanced further down the hallway. "Well, we ought to get this water back to my fellow judges, so you can return to work."

"Right," May said with a shaky breath. "Thank you."

* * *

"Jessilina Fabulosa," Jessie proudly introduced her stage name, sliding her old fake trainer ID across the table, "back for her grand return!"

The clerk behind the counter—a young, wide-eyed volunteer, no older than 18—was evidently overwhelmed by Jessie's egotistical personality, but she nodded shyly, took the ID, and entered her information into the computer.

"Of... course..." she said before returning her ID and sliding a sheet of related contest information. "We're pleased to have you, Ms. Fabulosa. From here, take your Pokémon to the nearest health station, and they'll do a quick check to make sure they're healthy enough to enter."

"Oh, they are," Jessie boasted, "and they're going to win the contest today." Cassidy—who was standing behind Jessie in line, alongside the women's exasperated male support group—scoffed and folded her arms.

"Please, you're gonna get your ass whooped by me, Cassandra Lovely," she snarked, and Jessie spun on her.

"That name is almost as fake as your chest," Jessie spat. The two women began squabbling, holding up the rest of the line; Butch was quick to get involved, but James, who was holding Jayce, sighed and decided to keep out of it, meaning Meowth had to step in—with claws at the ready.

"So, are these two compensating for fear they're going to be tossed in the iron castle again, or are they genuinely this stupid?" Georgia, who was further back in the line, asked dryly. She had Burgundy at her side, but Ash's posse, as she called them, were behind them.

"Both," Misty answered immediately, and Georgia snorted.

"At least the kid is cute," she conceded.

"Hey, look who it is!"

Burgundy tensed upon hearing the voice, and Georgia sent her an intrigued look.

"Oh, Arceus, no," Burgundy breathed before turning around and glaring at her visitor, Chili. He only grinned at her as he came closer, hands in his pockets.

"I thought you weren't entering the contest today," he teased.

"I'm not. I'm waiting with a friend. Get in the back of the line," Burgundy told him point-blank. Chili raised an eyebrow and glanced back at Ash, who was watching the exchange with confusion.

"Hey, Ash, mind if I stand in with you guys?" Chili asked.

"Uh... Sure thing, Chili!" Ash nodded, and Chili grinned again before sliding right behind Burgundy.

"Nice cape, by the way," he complimented Ash, which perked him up.

"Thanks!" Ash beamed.

"Don't encourage him." Misty glowered at the two men, but Chili faced forward to see Burgundy again, but she had turned away, hoping he would ignore her.

"So, anyway," he pestered her, tapping her on her arm, "why aren't you entering this contest again?"

"I'd rather watch you lose from the sidelines," Burgundy jeered, tossing a glance at him over her shoulder.

"Ooh, harsh." Chili remained unperturbed. "I thought you would be less salty after last night."

Burgundy gasped and spun around to face him, too, snarling, "_Excuse me._"

"Mm, what happened last night?" Georgia edged closer to the two, a playful eyebrow cocked.

"She and I had dinner together, that's all," Chili said coolly, which managed to disarm some of Burgundy's anger, but she kept her warning gaze locked on him. He had the made the smarter choice, deciding not to go all the way with his admissions—although, Georgia already had the idea in her head.

"A mistake, obviously," Burgundy mumbled.

"I get it." Chili shrugged, still unaffected by her spite. "You know I'm a winner, so you're afraid to lose to me in the contest."

"Remember when I destroyed you for the Trio Badge?" Burgundy reminded him.

"Yeah, _eight years ago_," Chili taunted her. "If you're so confident you're better than me, what do you have to lose? I'll tell you what: Let's make it interesting. If you get further than me in the contest standings, I'll buy you dinner again."

"And if I lose?" Burgundy inquired.

"You'll buy _me_ dinner."

Burgundy realized more than just Georgia were paying attention to them now, so she leaned closer to him, growling, "I'm not falling for your flirtatious provocation."

"Fine," Chili said. "How about this, then: You win, and you never have to talk to me again."

Burgundy stared. The clerk, now having dealt with the tiff between Jessilina and Cassandra, called, "Next in line?" Georgia moved ahead, and Burgundy narrowed her gaze at Chili, who smirked in response.

"Deal," she agreed.

_**July 17th, 2009. Late Morning. Opelucid City.**_

Paul was flipping through an old copy of _The Symbiosis Between Pokémon and Humans_ he had snagged from Iris's office, but he kept his eye on the clock. He wasn't interested in the pre-contest coverage—there was too much of a risk of his name coming up in tangent discussions—but he did want to watch the contest itself, watching for any anomalies that would indicate Leaf and Drew's plan working.

His cell phone rang—only once before he picked up.

"Hello?"

"_Paul—_" Reggie's voice patched through, and Paul hit the button to the end the call. He picked up his book again, and it wasn't long before the phone rang once more. This time, he let it go for two rounds before picking it up.

"What?" Paul asked flatly.

"_Did you hang up on me?_" Reggie sounded incredulous.

"Yes."

"_Why'd you answer this time then?_"

"I changed my mind and decided I could tolerate talking to you right now," Paul answered point-blank. A brief period of silence followed, as Reggie decided how to respond. Apparently, he decided to proceed as usual.

"_I tried to call you yesterday,_" he said. "_I left several messages._"

"I got them," Paul said. He had; he hadn't listened to them, but he had seen them on his screen.

"_How are you doing?_" Reggie asked cautiously.

"Better than yesterday."

"_Well... that's good._" Reggie was evidently surprised. Paul might have been, too, were he in Reggie's position.

"Are you reassured now? Can I hang up again?" Paul asked.

"_I was actually thinking about putting Cedar on the line._"

The line gave Paul pause. He pressed his lips together, pushed away his book, and said, "I guess I can stay for a couple more minutes."

_**July 17th, 2009. Afternoon. Nimbasa Town.**_

May had kept busy in the hours since her talk with Wallace. She had been around to check up on Conway testing the microphones for unempth time, Kelly and her management of the vendors and other wares, Zoey and Dawn at the press table (May noted Dawn was in an exceptional mood, which she took as a good sign), Ursula and her social media pursuits, Barry in the press box (he was antsy Ciara was around, and May had managed to eat up additional time talking with him about it), and dozens of other volunteers she and Max had spent weeks recruiting. She had even visited some of the newcomer Unovan contestants whom had never competed before and also managed to chat with Don George and Vivian for a while.

But now it was nearly 1 p.m., and the contest was to start soon. She had to return to the tech room eventually, and eventually was now.

Yet, she was on her way up from the ground floor when someone stopped her again. From the shadow of another hallway, an extravagantly-dressed woman came forward and stood in her path.

"Hey," she said, half-threateningly, "bandana twerp."

May was initially caught off guard, but she quickly regathered herself and greeted, "Hi, Jessie." She unconsciously touched the back of her head. She wasn't wearing a bandana. "Shouldn't you be with the other contestants? We're not far off from starting."

"I know." Jessie folded her arms. "I was actually looking for Vivian, but went I tried to go downstairs to find her, I was practically tackled by a G-Men agent. The place is drowning in security."

"Yeah... We really don't want anyone to, you know... try to kill Iris again," May said, to which Jessie stared.

"Anyway, about me." Despite the turn in the conversation, her voice had taken an unexpectedly soft, almost pleading tone. "I really need this to show that I'm of worth to the G-Men. I have son—and a husband. I don't want to end up in jail."

Her words struck May, but she reassured her, "Jessie, I don't think Leaf is at all interested in prosecuting you. Nor are Iris and Paul."

"Still, tell Vivian to really play up my entrance, okay?" Jessie prodded her.

May wrung her hands together; it would be another distraction.

"I'll let her know," she agreed.

* * *

"How close are we to starting?"

Drew groaned internally upon the question as he, exasperated, turned and looked at Leaf. Her arms were folded, her weight swung to her left hip, and she was looking at him expectantly. Drew knew he should have foreseen her showing up at some point to bother him.

"Who let you in here?" he asked her.

"I let myself in," Leaf answered with a shrug. She then turned an eye toward the person in the next seat over, who had only joined minutes earlier after finishing up on the ground floor. "Hello, Dawn. How are you doing? I haven't seen you since..."

"I'm fine, actually," Dawn replied before she could finish, and she sounded as though she really was all right—perhaps only tired at the inquiry's repetition. "No need to worry or bring it up."

"Noted." Leaf directed her gaze back at Drew. "Back to my original question: How close are we to starting?"

"We're waiting on May," Max answered for him, lolling his head back to look at her.

"Where is she?" Leaf asked.

"I sent her a text a couple minutes ago," Drew said. "She's on her way."

"I'm here." The heads of the room turned to see May entering in a hurry. She dropped off her purse on the table and pulled up a seat between Drew and her brother, letting out a long, tired sigh as she did.

"Where've you been?" Solidad asked. The question was hardly rude; she sounded more curious than anything.

"Cheating on Drew, probably," Harley quipped, but he was ignored.

"Solidad, it's so great to see you," May answered with a smile. "I was just, you know, helping out where I could, trying to keep busy. There's a lot on my mind, you know?"

"Like other people's dicks," Harley added.

"Filter, Harley," Solidad gently chastised.

"Are we sure he's not a terrorist from Team Plasma?" Leaf asked dryly.

"No, he's just wildly inappropriate," Solidad calmly defended. Harley shrugged off the insinuation.

"Well, then, let's hope we get the real deal soon enough," Leaf said plainly. "May's here, are we ready to go?"

"Yes, Leaf, we can get started," Drew said, annoyed by her—admittedly expected—antsy behavior. If he was honest with himself, he would know he was equally antsy, but perhaps not for the same reasons. Leaf nodded, pulled out her cell phone, and left the room. May let out yet another sigh and sunk into her chair. Drew raised his brow and turned a careful eye toward her.

"Everything okay? You seem stressed," he observed.

"I'm fine," she dismissed.

"You sure?"

"I'm _fine_, Drew," she snapped, and he recoiled back at her vehemence. She looked immediately remorseful upon her flare of anger and quickly apologized, but Drew exchanged a long and suspicious look with Max.

* * *

"We just got the go-ahead: You're on-stage in ten," Kenny informed the line of judges—plus Vivian—standing before him. His words were hurried, both nervous and hopeful, and it bled into the consciousness of his guests.

"Excellent!" Vivian clapped her hands together. Yet, despite her radiant smile, she added, "Ooh, I'm so excited I'm almost breathless. I think the fear is pumping into my adrenaline."

"... Fear?" Iris gave her an odd look.

"Not to worry you, Madam Champion, but we are a very attractive target." Her cheerful tone seemed inappropriate given the subject matter.

"Just as we would hope." Before Iris could respond, Lance had slid beside Kenny, edging him out of the way and taking control of the situation himself. Adalet was beside him.

"Hello, Lance," Raoul greeted with a smile. "It's good to see you as always."

"And to you, Mr. Contesta," Lance acknowledged him before returning his attention to the full group. "For those of you who don't know him, I'd like to introduce you to Erol Adalet—" Lance gestured to him as he said this. "—He's the Chief of the G-Men's Unova Division, and he'll be guarding the judge's table."

"Mm, well, should I introduce you, too, on stage?" Vivian asked, almost playfully. Iris decided she could never muster up enough optimism to be a Contest MC.

"That's quite all right, Ms. Meridian, but thank you," Adalet replied, his lips twitching into an amused smile.

"Okay, Mr. Adalet, whatever you say." Vivian flicked her eyes toward the clock. "T minus 8 until on-stage!"

_**July 17th, 2009. Afternoon. Pallet Town.**_

"I can't believe they, like, decided to go through with this," Daisy blustered incredulously as she looked at the television screen—only seven minutes remained until the contest start time—and slid lower into her chair. "Seriously, _what _are they thinking? And what is Misty thinking entering it?"

She was only concerned. She sat beside her husband, Tracey, on the sofa, while Delia, whom they had invited to join them, sat on the other end. Ash and Misty had informed them days earlier they would be entering, which was met with plenty of uncertainty, but no explanation was given.

"Maybe they wanted her to," Tracey suggested.

"For what reason?" Daisy asked.

"Increased success?" Tracey guessed, but Daisy was clearly unsatisfied by this response.

"I'll consider it successful if no one, like, gets their brains blown out," she said.

"_Daisy,_" he chastised, discreetly flicking his head toward Delia, but she knew.

"No, she's right," Delia calmly interjected. Tracey looked at her warily, and she smiled weakly, adding, "I'm worried, too."

_**July 17th, 2009. Afternoon. New Bark Town.**_

Lyra dug her spoon into her ice cream with frustration in her grip. She had been craving the treat more lately, and she was making herself a generous bowl with the television screen in view. She despite a third scoop into her bowl and dropped the spoon, tiring and needing a break, before looking directly at the screen again. The commentators were making their predictions: Misty Waterflower and Ash Ketchum were popular choices for getting far, but there was interest in seeing how the new Unova Elite Four member, Georgia Hamilton, would perform.

Five minutes remained.

_**July 17th, 2009. Afternoon. Snowpoint City.**_

Candice was snuggled up with one of her baby Swinub on the sofa, her eyes glued to the television. She was tuned into PNN—one of the better broadcast channels, according to Zoey—and had religiously watched the pre-coverage. Speculation had started whether they would see any surprise celebrity entrants, and Paul Rebolledo's name had come up, to which Candice only shook her head and sighed.

"Big day, Zoe-Zoe," she mumbled. "Big day."

_**July 17th, 2009. Afternoon. Veilstone City.**_

"So why aren't you at the contest?" Reggie asked, his ear pressed to the phone balanced on his shoulder while he cut some apples for his daughter and wife—Maylene was becoming less mobile further into pregnancy—though he kept an eye on the television in the other room. Surprisingly, Paul had agreed to stay on the phone even after Cedar decided she was done talking, and Reggie guessed he was in need of talking to someone, and not necessarily on anything meaningful—even if he would never admit it.

"_I'll give you two guesses,_" Paul scoffed.

"The presence of reporters?" Reggie threw out.

"_Yeah. More specifically, the presence of Coordinators Weekly._"

"You can't hide forever." Reggie pulled out a jar peanut butter and spoon, scooping out a dollop for each plate.

"_I'm actually very good at avoiding the media._"

"Not good enough, apparently," Reggie teased. He knew he could only make this type of comment if Paul was in an okay place, and he was doing remarkably better than expected.

"_Shut up,_" Paul snarled, though there was no true malice behind his voice. "_... Anyway, it's not the contest that matters. It's what comes after that matters, and I will be there for that._"

_**July 17th, 2009. Afternoon. Opelucid City.**_

"It's less than three minutes to showtime," Gary said, leaning back against the table, his eyes tilted up toward the screen. "Arceus, I hope this works." He was not alone: Brock, Clemont, and Silver were with him, and their eyes were also anxiously turned to the television.

"I'm sure there's no one who wants it to work more than you," Silver said. "Or, I don't know. Lemon boy might be close in the running."

Clemont frowned upon the remark but said nothing. Gary pressed a hand to his forehead, wiping away a bead of perspiration. Brock gave him an odd look at this; the Pokémon Center was cold. He shouldn't have been sweating.

"You okay, Gary?" Brock asked.

"Mhm," Gary hummed, but he added nothing further. It was then that his grandfather entered the room, joined by Bill. Gary pressed his sunglasses further up the bridge of his nose.

"Has the contest started already?" Professor Oak asked, also leaning against the able.

"Nah, Gramps," Gary said with a wave of his hand. "You haven't missed a thing yet."

_**July 17th, 2009. Afternoon. Nimbasa Town.**_

"Only two minutes left!" Bonnie breathed, checking the time on her phone before beaming up at Serena. "I'm so excited! Are you excited?" They were on the sidelines, standing among a crowd of nearly a hundred competitors. The normals tournaments held in that stadium were never meant to accommodate more than 64 _at the most_; yet, makeshift arrangements had been put in order to make the amount workable.

Serena managed a smile at Bonnie's exuberance, but admitted, "Nervous." It was certainly a different atmosphere than any performance in which she had ever participated. There was normally a backstage; here, they were out in the open, next to the field. Although, from her understanding, the open field was atypical in regular contests, too.

"You've got no reason to worry, Serena!" Ash jumped into the conversation. "You're gonna do great!"

"Yeah, you'll make it past the Appeals Round," Georgia said. She then cheekily added, "Just hope that you're not matched up with me in the battles."

Serena clutched her number card—she was No. 78, one of the final performers, simply her luck of the draw. "Here's to hoping," she said wearily.

"_Welcome Unova!_" Serena and the others heads snapped up as they saw the Contest MC bound to the front of the field. "My name is Vivian Meridian, and I will be your MC for this contest special, the first of its kind in this lovely region." Cheers erupted among the crowd and competitors alike. Vivian continued, "_Let us begin by introducing our panel of judges._" She gestured toward the judges' table, presently empty. "_First on our panel is the esteemed President of the Association of Pokémon Coordinators, Raoul Contesta!_"

Raoul appeared from the backstage judges' room with a charismatic wave, and his arrival was met with a raucous applause.

"_Second—you all know him and love him—it's Yoshinori Sukizo, the President of the Pokémon Fan Club!_" Sukizo followed Raoul with a placid smile on his face, seating himself beside his long-time friend.

"_The next judge on our panel hails from the wintery region of Sinnoh and is considered one of the most powerful and talented trainers of our time—here's former Champion Cynthia Stone!_"

The volume increased to screams as Cynthia glided into view and gracefully took her place.

"_Fourth, a fan-favorite among the contest circuit with his own famous competition, and the current Champion of Hoenn, Wallace Reyes!_"

The crow maintained its roars of excitement as Wallace came to the field. He let on a winsome smile and winked a couple young women in one of the front rows, causing them to lose their wits and nearly pass out. Serena couldn't help but laugh at that.

"_And finally, the leader of the ground on which we stand and the person who's helping to make this all possible, we are honored to welcome Unova Champion Iris Ajagara._" Vivian started clapping herself as Iris appeared. Iris looked a little wearied by the attention, but she smiled and waved, too. Ash whooped and shouted her name, while Misty pressed a hand to her face and shook her head, though she, too, wore an amused smile.

"_For those of you who are next to contests, let me give you a brief introduction of how this all works—a Contests 101, if you will,_" Vivian went on once the entire panel was seated. "_Each contest is split into two sections: the Appeals Round and the Battle Round. During the Appeals Round, coordinators will have to show off the beauty and strength of their Pokémon in a maximum two-minute appeal to our judges, who will score the appeal on a scale of 1-10 for a maximum 50 points. The top 16 coordinators with the highest scores will advance to the Battle Round._

"_The Battle Round features just what you think it would, but these are no ordinary battles. Each coordinator starts each battle with a bar of 100 points, and the goal is to end the battle with the most points. An excellent combination or strategy can cause your opponent to lose points—but a gaffe on your part can cause you__—_" She placed an almost-teasing emphasis on the "you." "_—to lose points. The coordinator with the most points when we hit the five-minute mark wins. If you run out of points before the timer runs out, the battle is over._"

"_Now that we're clear on how a contest works, are you ready to see some stars?_" Her inquiry was met with screams, and Vivian grinned. "_Excellent—then our first contestant in our Appeals Round, hailing from Pallet Town, Kanto, and the most recent winner of the Indigo League Conference, is Ash Ketchum!_"

Ash grinned and spun toward the field, at which point Serena caught a glimpse of his card—the number one was clearly printed in bold, black ink on it. He jumped onto the field with Pikachu on his shoulder, pulled his cape out with a hand, and bowed. The act went over well with the audience, and the judges were willing to entertain it. Although, Serena could see Iris sink into her seat laughing with the words "What a _dork_" on her lips.

"All right, Pikachu, you ready?" Ash asked, craning his neck to beam at his partner.

"Pika." Pikachu nodded confidently.

"Okay!" Ash thrusted his hand toward the field. "Then go out there and give me an Electro Ball!" Pikachu leapt forward with a concentration of electricity already building in the jagged edge of his tail. He then launched it high into the air, at which point Ash ordered, "Now slice into it with your Iron Tail, just like how we practiced!"

Pikachu's tail now took a metallic shine, and as the Electro Ball began to descend, Pikachu flipped himself up to let his now-heavier tail fall upon the center. The result unleashed the ball's contained electricity in firework-like sparks that fell across the field. The audience was captivated and already applauding, but Ash wasn't finished yet.

"All right, now go into your Counter Shield!"

Pikachu landed on his feet, but quickly spun onto his backside. His Thunder built a protective spiral around him, and that sent the crowd into a fit.

"_Wow,_" Vivian gushed. "_What a treat, folks! We just witnessed Ash Ketchum's signature move, the Counter Shield, as a beautiful finishing touch on his appeal! Let's see what our judges think._"

A row of touchscreen PokéPads were lined up in front of the judges, and they were already entering their scores. "Remarkable... truly remarkable..." Iris heard Mr. Sukizo mutter to himself as he worked. She then snapped her head toward her own screen and stared inputting her scores.

"_All right..._" Vivian started once the scoring was finished. "_We've got an 8.9, a 9.5, a 9.2, a 9.3, and an 8.5 for Mr. Ketchum! And the finally tally is..._" The number appeared on the large screen to a drumroll. "_45.4 points! An great score that will be hard for Ketchum's fellow contestants to top! Guess he's not only a great competitive trainer, huh?_"

Ash was clearly satisfied by this result, and he invited Pikachu up onto his shoulder again, greeting him with a fistbump. He, however, also glowered at Iris, whom had awarded him the lowest score. Yet, she only shrugged and smiled.

"_Our second entrant is making waves with her return to the contest world after a seven-year hiatus!_" Vivian was moving along quickly as Ash left the field. _"Please give a warm welcome to none other than Jessilina Fabulosa!_"

Jessilina hurried onto the field next with a delighted laugh as she threw her arms in the air, drinking in the applause. Iris watched, as unimpressed with her opener as she was with Ash, but cast a discreet look to her left. Adalet was standing there, unmoved, and Iris sucked in her breath.

* * *

"_An amazing 47.6 points!_" Vivian marveled, her eyes on the screen. "_That's the highest score we've seen today, and I think Ms. Serena Paschall and her Delpox have definitely earned it! Let's give them a round of applause for a stellar performance!_"

They were deep into the appeals by then, and those in the tech room had been watching with bated breath. Leaf was checking her phone periodically, almost obsessively, to see if Lance was leaving her any messages.

"You know, if I was a betting man," Harley remarked, his chin resting lazily on his palm, as he watched Serena leave the field, "I'd bet on that bitch."

"You are a betting man," Solidad pointed out.

"I'm also a poor man, Solidad," Harley retorted.

"Serena is very good," May interjected, apparently agreeing that Serena was a viable candidate to win. "When she and I participated in a practice contest, she and I went up against each other in the final round."

"Who won?" Solidad inquired.

"... Me, but it was a good battle!" May insisted.

"Well, if she lost against you, she can't be _that _good," Harley scoffed.

"How many appeals are left?" Leaf spoke over him, and he glowered at her. He wasn't used to his snide comments being ignored, especially by May, who always provided the best reactions. Her mind seemed to be somewhere else today though, and Leaf was hardly in the mood to put up with Harley's nature, even if his remarks weren't directed at her.

"Eight. Georgia is next," Drew answered. "We've gone through 78 appeals now."

"Damn, that's some tough competition if you're only narrowing it down to 16." Harley raised an eyebrow.

"We don't have the luxury of multiple days," Drew explained. "We would've needed two days for the contest if we took 32."

"It's a good thing we got 86 entrants, though," Kenny added hopefully. "That's not a number to sneeze at. It shows the people want a contest branch here."

"What were your estimates?" Solidad inquired.

"We planned for 60," Kenny replied. "We probably could've gone for a larger stadium if we wanted. The deal Don George offered us was too good to pass up, though."

"Well, you can always hold another contest if you want one," Solidad suggested.

"We might need one if Team Plasma doesn't show up soon," Leaf mumbled. She was watching Georgia's appeal while she spoke. Her Beartic had set up the field with a Blizzard and was now using Icicle Crash to create some kind of formation—a Pokéball, it looked like.

"Don't worry, Leaf," Dawn tried to assure her. "We've still got the entire Battle Round."

Yet, Leaf only sighed, saying, "Right."

Dawn frowned. Leaf's distress was starting to affect her, too; she was growing more nervous, more doubtful as to whether anything would happen. That was when she rose to her feet and announced, "I'm going to head downstairs to check on our judges when they come in between the rounds, okay?"

"All right," May acknowledged with a nod. "See you soon!"

"_46.1 points for Elite Four member Georgia Hamilton and her Beartic! What a fantastic debut for what's sure to be a legacy in the Unova League._"

* * *

"Must be good knowing you're a shoe-in, Serena." Serena glanced up when Georgia approached and sat beside her on the bench. She crossed one leg over the other, ribbing, "The highest score of the day, huh? Guess those Pokémon Performances were worth something after all."

"You did a nice job, Georgia," Serena complimented. She wasn't sure why the Elite Four member had seemingly taken a liking to her, especially since they hadn't talked much. Although, she did notice Georgia wasn't bothering her other friend, Burgundy, as much, and Trip was off taking photos. Her and Burgundy's relationship had seemed mildly strained all morning, in fact, and Serena wondered if Georgia had just latched onto her to get under Burgundy's skin.

"Thank you." Georgia sounded smug. "Beartic is a handsome guy, and I'm glad the judges' recognize that."

"You know they don't judge on the Pokémon's actual appearance, right?" Burgundy remarked from afar.

"Oh, like a Trubbish has ever won a contest," Georgia scoffed.

"_That's it, folks! You've seen all 86 of our contestant's beautiful appeals. Only the top 16 can advance, though—and they are on-screen!_" The sixteen faces started to line up on the screen: Serena first, followed by Jessilina, a girl from Striaton City, Georgia, Misty, a number of other Unovan trainers, Ash, Bonnie, a boy from Driftveil, a girl from Undella, Chili, Burgundy, and Cassidy.

"YEAH!" Bonnie cheered when she saw her mug on the screen, catching several of her fellow competitors by surprise.

"You make a lot of noise for such a little girl," Cassidy grumbled, scooting away from her.

"Oh, you're just bitter that you didn't make it in," Jessie dismissed.

"Might wanna get your eyesight checked, you old hag, because I'm on that list," Cassidy snarled. "Right behind the plum-haired girl."

"Where?" Jessie whipped her head toward the screen again. "Oh... No. 16, at the bottom the trash bin, where you belong."

"If she's at the _bottom_ of the trash bin, you're still suggesting you're also in the trash bin," Misty pointed out, causing Jessie to whirl on her next.

"Shut up," she growled.

"And right in front of that plum-haired girl is me at No. 14," Chili boasted, casting a sly look toward Burgundy. "At this rate, you're going to be buying me dinner."

"_Compte là-dessus_," Burgundy huffed. "Remember, I am still an A-Class Connoisseuse, and I have A-Class battling abilities."

"_Congratulations to our Top 16!_" Vivian continued after giving ample time for the celebrations. "_The Battle Round will begin after a short 15-minute break... and just so you have something to look forward to, here are the match-ups!_" The sixteen mugs on the screen flipped, like cards, and were shuffled at random before revealing the first eight battles: Serena v. Jessilina; Burgundy v. Chili; Bonnie v. the Striaton trainer; the Undella trainer v. the the Driftveil trainer; two other battles between Unova competitors; Georgia v. Misty; and, finally, Ash v. Cassidy;

"Ha, well I guess you'll get to show me those A-Class abilities on the field," Chili said, seeing him and Burgundy on the screen, to which she only groaned.

"Well, Misty, it was nice knowing you, but I regret to inform that you're going down." Georgia turned her attention away from Serena and toward Misty, who laughed in amusement.

"You're awfully cocky for an E4 newbie," she said.

"I have the talent to back it up." Georgia shrugged.

"We'll see about that," Misty replied with a smirk before glancing at Serena. "Serena, it looks like you're going to be the first to battle—against Jessilina."

"How fun," Serena said, though she sounded a little intimidated. Jessie had started glaring at her.

"Don't worry, sweetie," Cassidy assured her, leaning in close. "She's not _that_ good."

"You should be scared," Misty told Cassidy before either Serena or Jessie could get in a word. "You're up against Ash in the first round, and he's sent both you and your friend Biff packing in the past."

"That's because_ Butch_ is dead weight," Cassidy scoffed. "Much like your boyfriend and his rodent will be after I'm through with him."

Ash has seated himself near Serena and was watching all this go down, and he appeared entertained, to say the least. Serena blinked and, in a low voice, asked him, "Aren't you going to say anything?"

"Nah." Ash spoke at a normal volume. "Trash talk isn't any fun if you know ahead of time that you're gonna win."

Cassidy heard him, and she immediately spun toward him, snarling, "_Excuse me?_"

* * *

"So, looks like your girlfriend Georgia made it in," Ritchie remarked, his eyes locked onto the screen. "Misty's gonna be a tough match. I've never seen Georgia battle, but Misty's a powerhouse. You know that, of course."

Ritchie was standing next to Trip, leaning forward against some railing overlooking the field. Trip was only half-paying attention to what his friend had to say, however. He was scrolling through the previews of the photos he had taken and was deleting anything blurry or uninteresting.

"I don't know if she's my girlfriend," Trip finally said, having no additional match speculation to add. Ritchie raised a single eyebrow.

"Well, you two had a romantic tryst last night in the back of her car, so that could lead you somewhere." He then paused, examining Trip's expression before asking, "... Do you want it go somewhere?"

The question forced Trip to stop scrolling. His gaze remained low as he considered a response—or rather, worked up the willingness to say what he thought. He hadn't openly admitted he'd developed feelings for Georgia to anyone, Ritchie included.

"... Yeah," Trip eventually mumbled. "I'd like it if that happened."

"Then make it happen," Ritchie pressed.

"Easier said than done." Trip shook his head.

"She's obviously into you."

"Glad you think so."

"I know so," Ritchie insisted. "I've seen the way she looks at you. ... And the way you look at her, too."

Trip said nothing, and Ritchie perceived this as him simply thinking; Trip had never been terribly talkative anyway. Yet, there was a slow change in his expression as he focused his gaze on something faraway, something across the stadium. He pressed his camera to his face again, and Ritchie thought he was merely taking another picture, until Trip said, "Who is that?"

"Who's what?" Ritchie blinked, snapping his head toward where Trip was looking.

"There's someone sneaking in the direction of the judges' room. No one's supposed to be there except authorized personnel," Trip said, quickly lowering his camera and retrieving his cell phone.

"What?!" Ritchie exclaimed, now looking harder. That was when he saw a speckle of a male with light green hair, whose behavior _did _look at least somewhat suspicious, creeping through one of the half-open tunnels that was indeed closed off to the public. It was so far off, though, that Ritchie could hardly believe Trip had spotted him.

Trip's phone was already ringing, and when the other line picked up, he breathlessly began, "_Leaf._"

* * *

"What a fantastic show!" Raoul declared, collapsing into one of the sofas back in the judges' backstage room. He accepted a water bottle from Dawn and unscrewed the cap to take a sip. "There's so much talent to be seen in the region. It's been a real treat so far."

"Yes, it's been remarkable!" Sukizo agreed, sitting beside the APC President.

"The battles are personally my favorite, so I'm looking forward to those the most," Cynthia remarked. "Misty and Georgia ought to be an interesting match-up... It's not often we see Elite Four members battle each other from across regions." Iris was only half-listening when she noticed Cilan enter from the hallway door. She smiled and rose up to meet him, happy he had come.

"What did you think?" she asked when she met him.

"You were wonderful," he complimented her, grasping her hands. "You're arguably the toughest judge on the panel."

"You know I'm hard to please," she teased him. Her voice then turned low as she asked, "Have you... heard anything... ?"

Cilan frowned and shook his head. "I haven't," he said.

Iris frowned, too. It wasn't the news she wanted to hear. "I didn't see Erol leave the stage once," she recalled.

"It's a good thing," Cilan assured her. "I value your safety above everything else."

"It's a nice sentiment, but we need Team Plasma," Iris pressed.

As soon as the words left her mouth, both she and Cilan saw Adalet throw open the door leading in from the field and cross the room, heading out the other door without a word. His hasty behavior alarmed all the room's residents, and Cilan breathed, "Perhaps you're about to get your wish."

A commotion followed. Yelling could be heard down the hallway, but no gunfire; Cynthia and Wallace jumped to their feet, and Iris immediately headed out the door to see what had happened. She could hear both Dawn and Cilan calling after her, but she pressed forward, and when she wound her way further ahead, she saw that Adalet was on the ground with another man—slim, pale-eyed, with green hair and blood pouring from his nose.

"What's going on?" Iris demanded when she met them.

"Get off me! Let me go!" the man yelped as Adalet straddled him.

"You are unauthorized to be back here," Adalet hissed.

"I know, but—" the man started, but Adalet cut him off.

"Are you a member of Team Plasma?" he badgered.

"What?" The man looked completely bewildered at this accusation. "No! I'm just a reporter!"

Iris felt her breath catch—for the wrong reasons. Footsteps came up from behind her, and she was soon joined by Cilan and Dawn, among others.

"Where's your press pass?" Adalet continued his interrogation.

"I don't have one! Sorry!" The man struggled beneath Adalet, wanting to wriggle free of his painful grasp. "But I swear I'm a reporter—ask Zoey Williams. Better, ask Ciara Skelley!"

* * *

A tense silence hung in the judges' room. Everyone, except the man Adalet had tackled to the ground, was on their feet and standing a safe distance away from the man, who was being held firmly in place on one of the sofas by Adalet's powerful hand. Adalet had already checked whether there were any weapons on him—nothing. Just a notepad, pen, and a recorder.

His head hung low, his eyes cast toward the ground as he plugged his nose with his hand, trying to prevent more blood from spilling onto his already stained clothes. Everyone was watching him, but no one was saying anything, waiting for confirmation to arrive. Lance and Leaf had joined this waiting party not long after Adalet had apprehended the man, but both wore very different expressions. Lance's was hard, threatening; Leaf's was doubtful and embittered.

The sound of running heels approached, and Ciara appeared in the doorway, breathless; Zoey was not far behind. Yet, it was Ciara's reaction that was the most telling, as she sighed, scoffed, and said, "You're an idiot." She brusquely entered the room, reaching into her purse as she did, and pulled out a tissue to press it against the man's nose as she slid beside him on the sofa.

"So you know him?" Lance asked crossly.

"Yes, I know him." Ciara sounded disgusted. "He's a co-worker."

A beat of silence followed. Leaf turned her head toward Zoey, quietly inquiring her name. Zoey sighed in response.

"This is Nabe Phinehas," she confirmed, folding her arms. "He is indeed a reporter at Coordinators Weekly. He was, however, not on the approved list of press persons for this event."

"This event only issued one press pass per news organization," Ciara stated bluntly, implying that she had known—or, at least, that she had believed—her colleague was planning on doing this.

"Because no news organization needed more than one," Zoey contended.

"We did," Ciara fought back.

"For what?"

"There were two stories here," Nabe spoke up, now pressing the tissue to his nose on his own. "For the contest, and for her." He pointed to Dawn, who froze up in response. Nabe continued, "I was coming back here to try to get an interview."

Dawn's mouth felt dry. Leaf looked distraught. Dawn closed her eyes, sucked in her breath and, in a low voice, apologized to her. "I'm sorry," she said weakly, but Leaf shook her head.

"Escort him out of here," she order, deflated. Adalet grabbed Nabe firmly by the arm, forcing him to stand, before starting to push him toward the door. Ciara followed, but Zoey remained, watching her companions sympathetically. Iris pressed a hand to her temple, rubbing it as she turned away from Cilan—from everyone.

"You look disappointed, Madam Champion," Vivian observed, sounding genuinely confused. It didn't seem to make sense that she would be upset a terrorist had not infiltrated the contest, but she looked it anyway.

"I'm not disappointed, I'm just... frustrated," Leaf corrected, mumbling. She then cleared her throat and said at a normal volume, "Sorry for the hold-up, everyone. The show can go on."

* * *

"_And that wraps up the first battle!_" Vivian proclaimed as the timer hit zero. "_It was a nail-biter for sure, but it looks like Serena and her Delphox have clinched the win!_"

Exuberant cheers followed the victory, but it all felt warbled and distant in Cilan's mind as he made his way back from the judges' room to where his brother, Cress, was seated. They were in a shaded area with a decent view of the field. They could have easily requested access into the tech room, but Cilan knew it would be crowded, and it was easy enough to blend in with their current situation.

"So?" Cress inquired when Cilan settled beside him again.

"So what?" Cilan cast a sideways glance toward him.

"That delay?" Cress pressed, clarifying. "The Battle Round started 10 minutes late. Did they—"

"—No." Cilan shook his head. "It was a false alarm." He then sighed, adding, "It's not going to happen today."

"Don't give up hope yet," Cress tried to encourage him, but Cilan's dismal outlook remained unaffected.

"I didn't think I was hoping for anything to happen until it didn't," he mumbled. And it was true: The original plan, as he saw it, banked on replicating what happened at Iris's inauguration, which made him understandably anxious. Yet, it was only now he realized that walking away from the stadium empty-handed would send them spiraling back to square one and worsen his wife's depression.

"_Our second battle today features two Unova natives!_" Vivian began, transitioning to the next battle. She threw an arm to out to the first entrance, announcing, "_On our left we have the Fire-type gym leader hailing from Striaton City, Chili Griffith!_" Chili, while certainly not Unova's most popular gym leader, received notable plaudits as he entered the field, grinning and waving. "_And to our right, a certified A-Class Connoisseuse student in the Pokémon Connoisseur Association, Burgundy Myers!_"

Burgundy met him on the other end of the field. She was less willing to engage with the crowd; rather, she looked unusually fierce, determined to beat him.

"This ought to be interesting," Cress remarked before turning an eye toward Cilan. "Thoughts?"

"Chili and Burgundy are both emotional battlers; they become clumsier the more heated they become," Cilan answered without having to think deeply about it. "So, truly, it's a matter of who can best keep their wits about them."

"All right Arcanine, you're up!" Chili tossed out his Pokéball, calling forth his strongest.

"Come out, Samurott!" Burgundy followed his lead. "I'm _depending_ on you."

Chili blinked upon her choice, but his lips quickly twitched into a smirk.

"Relying on type advantages for a cheap win, huh?" he taunted her. "It'll only be embarrassing when I pull ahead."

"The only person's face who will be embarrassed by the end of this match will be you." Burgundy's temper flared up. "Now, Samurott, begin with Hydro Pump!"

"Dodge Arcanine!" Samurott's jet of water missed entirely as Arcanine leapt of the way, and there was nothing but a large, muddy puddle where he had been. Arcanine ruffled its own coat proudly and looked forward at Samurott and his trainer, as if he were taunting them.

"_Burgundy orders a powerful Water-type move against the disadvantaged Arcanine, but he's just too fast!_" The bar beneath Burgundy's mug on the screen began to drag lower, only a little to begin. "_And it hurts her points._"

"Those judges take off points for the smallest things," Cress commented, observing the screen. "You really do have to consider your moves. Anything done recklessly will cost you."

"And that is why neither Chili nor Burgundy will be winning this contest," Cilan concluded with a weary smile.

Chili looked pleased he had already managed to pull ahead, and he ordered, "Sunny Day, Arcanine." Arcanine sat on the ground and howled at the sky; the sunlight suddenly felt more intense in both luminescence and heat. Chili sucked in his breath, reveling in it, while Burgundy brushed away a line of perspiration, looking more annoyed.

"_Ah, just look at the way, Arcanine's coat glows under that sunshine, and it's costing Myers more points,_" Vivian marveled. Burgundy let out a shaky breath, growing more frustrated.

"Samurott, try Hydro Pump again," Burgundy commanded. Again, the attack was unable to connect due to Arcanine's speed, and another muddy spot was left on the field.

"She's losing her cool," Cress tutted. "Looks like you were right after all."

"True," Cilan conceded, "but Chili is also growing overconfident."

"All right Arcanine, go for Solar Beam!" Chili charged.

"What?!" Burgundy gasped. With the intensity of the sunlight, there was no wait time, and Samurott was lambasted with a direct hit. The Water-type's knees nearly buckled, but he remained firm under his trainer's encouragement. Still, the damage to her points wasn't as easily recoverable, which Chili delighted in.

"Looks like I'll be enjoying a nice meal on your tab," he teased.

"_Ta bouche_!" she snapped at him.

"She needs a new strategy," Cress observed.

"Swords Dance, Samurott," Burgundy ordered.

"And there's one right there," Cilan added.

"Now, Samurott, use Aerial Ace!" With a roar, Samurott charged toward Arcanine while pulling his swords from the gold-colored sheaths of plated armor on his arms. Arcanine tried to dodge again, but accidentally slid into one of the agglomerations of mud Samurott had created earlier, and Samurott struck Arcanine with a direct blow.

"_A nice combination!_" Vivian commended. "_Swords Dance increases Attack power, while Aerial Ace is a solid move that never misses! Even the speedy Arcanine couldn't miss it, and it's going to drain some of Chili's points._"

"While you're close, Samurott, use Razor Shell!" Burgundy smiled, now gaining momentum.

"Solar Beam again, Arcanine!" Chili ordered, losing his.

"Dodge," Burgundy commanded. "Quick, Samurott, finish him off with Hydro Pump!" Arcanine tried to escape another direct hit, but he was—quite literally—stuck in the mud and unable to get out of way as a high-powered jet of water spewed against him, pushing him back into the expanding swamp. Tense, silent motionlessness followed, until finally, the judges buzzed him out.

"_Arcanine has been ruled unable to battle by the judges, so the victory goes to Burgundy Myers and her Arcanine!_" Vivian declared. "_While Chili and his Arcanine started off strong, Burgundy's combo between Swords Dance and Aerial Ace gave her the edge she needed to turn the battle around._"

Burgundy nearly shrieked but quickly pressed her hand to her mouth, preventing the embarrassment. She called her Samurott over to her embraced him by the neck, offering him praises aplenty. Chili stared after, bewildered, but sighed, smiled, and called back his Arcanine, too, thanking him for the well-fought battle.

"Well done, Burgundy," Cilan commended with an approving nod.

"Still think she's not winning the contest?" Cress inquired.

"... Oh, definitely not." Cilan shook his head.

_**July 17th, 2009. Afternoon. Opelucid City.**_

Gary had seen the writing on the wall. Or, rather, he had received confirmed word of it. After the ten-minute delay, Gary—and the others—had earnestly (and anxiously) believed something had happened, but when he texted Leaf, he learned that it was nothing more than a tabloid reporter who had caused the setback. The revelation was accompanied by a heavy, sickening drop of his heart into his stomach. He returned to work immediately afterward.

He swung by the television later, however, looking for a bottle of water. His mouth was getting dryer; he was definitely dehydrated, and it made him feel... feverish.

"Gary, you're missing the battle between Georgia and Misty. Misty's ahead," Brock reported, throwing the researcher a glance over his shoulder.

"Is she?" he mumbled, evidently disinterested. "I'll watch it online later, after I find... a treatment."

His hand gripped the edge of a table; he swayed, feeling dizzy, and this incited alarm in his colleagues.

"Gary?" his grandfather inquired worriedly. Gary opened his mouth, intending to reply, to tell him everything was all right, but he lost consciousness before the words could reach the end of his tongue, and he ungracefully hit the ground. There was a distinct cracking sound; his sunglasses had broken.

"Gary?!" Professor Oak sprung to his feet and hurried to him. "Gary!" He called to his grandson again, turning him over. "G—" The name died in his throat as he saw the lavender tint to his scleras.

_**July 17th, 2009. Afternoon. Nimbasa Town.**_

Misty should have felt bad she wasn't paying attention to her boyfriend's battle, she knew. In her mind, she justified with the knowledge he was going to win anyway—and that there were more pressing matters at hand. Literally, as she rapidly tapped her screen with her finger, typing out a text message.

"You know, I have to give props where are due," Georgia remarked, stealing Misty's attention as she slid on the bench beside her. "Nice battling out there."

Misty smirked. "Regretting your trash talk now?" she asked wryly, finishing her message and pressing send. She dropped the phone back into her lap.

"I never regret trash talk," Georgia corrected. "I only regret losing." She then inclined her head toward the redhead, inquiring, "Who are you texting?"

"Leaf."

"They find someone?"

"No." Misty shook her head. "They thought they did, but it turned out to be an unauthorized reporter trying to snake his way into the judges' room to meet up with Dawn."

"_And there we have it!_" Both Misty and Georgia looked up, seeing that Ash had drained all of Cassidy's points. "_Cassandra Lovely fought hard, but ultimately, it's Ash Ketchum and his Pikachu who come out on top._"

Cheers erupted, and Georgia leaned closer to Misty so she could hear her when she said, "We're halfway through the Battle Round now."

"Yeah." Misty let out a long breath. "It's not looking good."

_**July 17th, 2009. Afternoon. Opelucid City.**_

Paul turned the knob on his sink, letting the water wash over his newly hard-boiled eggs in his strainer. His hair was tied back into a ponytail as he worked, though he was listening to the match between Ash and Misty from Vivian's comments over the television in the other room. He didn't know the exact score, but it sounded like they were neck-and-neck.

His phone rang. Paul had already endured a long conversation earlier that day, but with the tentative hope that the other end would have news, he picked it up.

"Hello?" he gruffly inquired.

"_Paul, it's Brock._"

Paul stopped, his gaze automatically narrowing. "How did you get this number?" he asked.

"_Are you at the contest?_" Brock skipped over answering the question, and Paul straightened up, assuming—or hoping**—**Brock somehow knew something he didn't.

"No, I'm still in Opelucid," Paul answered.

"_Can you come to the hospital?_" Brock implored, and Paul's brow shot up.

"Why? What happened?"

_**July 17th, 2009. Afternoon. Nimbasa Town.**_

"_All right folks, we're down to the final match!_" Vivian declared, though it was clear she was growing weary after several hours of work. She was dabbing away a couple beads of sweat under the summer sun using her handkerchief, but she quickly put it away to introduce the opponents. "_Coming off a win against Ash Ketchum that settled the score from the Indigo Conference Elite Four battles, it's the Water-type specialist Misty Waterflower!_" Misty entered from the left, waving to the fans she had gained since her performances that morning. "_And taking her on is Serena Paschall, a well-known Pokémon Performer from the beautiful country of Kalos!_"

"It's a shame that the final round of a contest that was supposed to be for Unovans will see two _non-_Unovans face off," Harley remarked dryly, watching the two women take their places on the field from the window of the tech room. He cast a glance toward Drew asking, "Didn't think that through, huh, Mr. Hayden?" Drew shrugged the criticism off though, mumbling some excuse about how who won didn't matter as long as the participants enjoyed themselves.

"Serena will be at a severe disadvantage," Solidad deliberated, considering the earlier matches she had seen. "Her Delphox won't fare well against Misty's Starmie."

"That's not necessarily true," May politely contended. "Type isn't everything!"

"Oh, yeah, didn't you win against Misty with Blaziken during your practice session?" Max piped in

"Yes—against her Corsola," May admitted. "It was a Fighting-type against a Rock-type, so it evened the playing field a little bit... but still, Serena has experience in Pokémon Performances, so I wouldn't count her out yet!"

Drew had tuned out. He headed to the back of the room, sinking into a chair beside an obviously disappointed Leaf,

"We'll come up with a different plan," he assured her.

"I'm all ears," she sighed.

"Time to revisit Barret Dunstan?" Drew suggested.

"Mm..." Leaf hummed, but she said nothing of the idea.

"All right, Delphox, you're up!" Serena called her chosen partner to the field.

"Come on out, Starmie!" Misty did the same.

"This'll be quick," Harley said with a click of his tongue. "Glad I didn't place any bets after all."

"Starmie, start off with Surf!" Misty ordered right off the bat.

Both Serena and Delphox looked as though they were bracing themselves. Yet, Serena also knew she had to expect this, so she said, "Calm Mind, Delphox."

As the wave grew in height and spread its width across the entire field, Delphox closed her eyes and hung her head, letting the effects of her special move take place—as well as letting the wave crash upon her. The water receded, and Delphox stood unmoved, despite her soaking fur.

"_Misty starts out with a powerful move that Delphox simply couldn't have avoided if she tried,_" Vivian said, appalled, "_but that Calm Mind gave her a boost in her Special Attack and Special Defense, letting her withstand the attack._"

"She's only prolonging her loss," Harley tutted.

"Harley, be quiet," Solidad ordered, and he glowered at her.

Serena knew she had to move to the offensive now if she wanted to stand a choice, so she commanded, "Delphox, use Psychic!" Misty smiled, amused, but somewhat unimpressed as Delphox's energy placed pressure on Starmie with little effect.

"Two can play at that game: Starmie, use Psyshock!" she ordered. Starmie's ruby gem glowed, and suddenly, dozens of small, jagged rock-like objects materialized from its psychic power. Starmie sent them barrelling across the field toward Delphox; she managed to avoid a few, but was hit in several sensitive areas, bringing her to her knees. Serena gasped, but didn't let herself lose her cool yet.

"Using Calm Mind was smart, but since Starmie is a Water _and _Psychic-type, it's resistant to all of Delphox's moves," Kenny pointed out with a shake of his head.

"Fire Blast, Delphox!" was Serena's next move. Delphox rose again, pulled its wooden stick from her drying coat, and summoned a blast of fire from its tip. Misty tried to call for Starmie to dodge, but he lacked speed, and the flames engulfed him in a direct hit. They quickly died, though, giving Misty a sigh of relief—too soon. Flames flared up again, and Misty's chest tightened, her eyes widening.

"Oh no, it's—"

"_Ooh, looks like Starmie has been left with a nasty burn!_" Vivian winced, voicing Misty's fear.

"What luck!" Harley abruptly stood up, nearly knocking over his own chair.

"Told you type wasn't everything," May said smugly, and Harley sent her a nasty look.

"Well, let's just see what she does now," Solidad said, taking a more tempered approach.

"Starmie, use Thunder!" Misty ordered, knowing now _she _had to improve her offensive strategy with a burn slowly draining Starmie's health. Electricity spun out of Starmie's gem, but Serena quickly ordered for Delphox to dodge, and the Fire-type managed to avoid the whips of lightning.

"Not surprising," Conway said flippantly. "Thunder has an iffy accuracy."

"Rain Dance, Starmie!" Misty ordered.

"Not anymore," Dawn said, tilting her head toward the sky, which had turned gray. The rain started pouring, but the burn Delphox inflicted seared Starmie again, and Misty flinched.

"_That burn is draining Misty's points!_" Vivian brushed a curly, damp lock away from her own cheek. "_And we're down to less than two minutes!_"

"Use Thunder again, Starmie!" There was no avoiding it this time: Delphox was struck with the powerful Electric-type move, and everyone thought it was over.

"_Well—_" Vivian started, but she stopped short, realizing Delphox was still standing. "_Well, I'll be darned. Delphox is still on her feet!_

"Of course! How could we forget?" May exclaimed, growing excited. "Calm Mind! It increases Special Defense!"

"She's behind in points, though," Max pointed out, "and the timer's about to hit zero."

And it was at that moment, with only 30 seconds left on the clock, that Serena pulled her ace: "Grass Knot, Delphox!" With a wave of Delphox's wand, the ground beneath Starmie rumbled, and then several green tendrils burst from the earth and wrapped around the Water-type, slamming it gem-forward into the mud.

"What?!" Kenny nearly fell out of his chair.

"No way!" Harley gasped.

"She kept that up her sleeve this entire time," Max marveled, "and it's super effective, too."

"It also looks like it dealt considerable damage," Conway observed, adjusting his glasses. "Grass Knot's power is determined by the weight of the opponent. A Starmie averages around 170 Lbs, so Grass Knot's base attack power would fall around 80 according to Jonathon Willow's measuring system."

Misty had no chance the retaliate. The timer hit zero, and both Serena and Misty jerked their heads toward the screen.

"_That's time!_" Vivian said with a clap of her hands. "_And the winner is..._" There was a delay in the screen change, and the entire stadium waited with bated breath. Then, one card moved to the center of the screen. "_Well, would you look at that? It was no easy feat, but Serena Paschall managed to come out on top!_"

Serena's hands were clutched over her heart, and she let out a long breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Then the weight of her victory suddenly hit her, and she laughed aloud in delight, hurrying out to the field to embrace her soaking wet Delphox. Misty smiled at her, calling back her Starmie, and sliding the Pokéball into her pocket.

"I should've placed that money!" Harley slammed his hands on the table while the rest of the group was still reeling from the great battle. Even Leaf and Drew had sprung to their feet at its climax, but now that it was over, Leaf fell back and folded her arms.

"Well, that's that," she sighed.

* * *

"Serena, that was _incredible_!" Ash congratulated, absolutely beaming as Serena came back to the sidelines, where she was greeted by similar awed praises and celebratory embrace from Bonnie. "Pulling out that Grass Knot at the very end was awesome! Did'ja keep it a secret for a reason?"

Serena smiled, feeling herself swell with a morsel of pride. Yet, she admitted, "It wouldn't have worked well with my other opponents... but I did think it would be good idea to keep at least a part of my moveset hidden for a while."

"You just got lucky with that burn," Jessilina derided from afar, trying to downplay her victory. She was evidently still bitter she had lost in the first round. Before Serena could respond, or anyone else could step up to defend her, however, Misty came back from the sidelines, too, with a good-humored expression.

"Serena!" Misty touched her opponent's upper arm. "What a great battle! Thank you. I really enjoyed myself."

"Thanks." Serena was flattered. Yet, she could see there was a different emotion hidden beneath her friends' layer of supportive congratulations, and it wasn't hard to figure out why. She brushed some of her hair away from her face and folded her hands across each other before reassuring them, "You guys, it's okay to be disappointed, though."

Her remark caught the others' off guard, and Ash confusedly repeated, "Disappointed?"

Serena nodded morosely.

"This isn't what we wanted to happen," she said knowingly.

* * *

The sun was setting by the time the contest ceremonies had ended, and Georgia had Burgundy, Trip, and Ritchie trailing behind her as they meandered into the parking lot, toward where Georgia had parked. Silence persisted among them; an air of sullen dissatisfaction had fallen thick upon their group, despite the excited chatter passing by them: "Misty definitely had my favorite appeal"; "Those battles were amazing!"; "I can't wait 'till Contests are here officially!"

They had run into Dawn earlier, and she, carrying a drop of guilt in her voice, informed them that "on the bright side," the contest had done very well and was a huge boost to the CIU. Georgia scoffed in response and said that ought to make Drew happy.

Georgia stuck her key into her car door, unlocking the entire vehicle, so she and her passengers could climb inside. It was only when they were alone that Georgia clicked her tongue and said, "Well, that was a let-down."

"Because you lost, or because the plan to attract Team Plasma completely failed?" Burgundy mumbled.

"Both." Georgia stuck her keep into the ignition. "Anyone else need a drink?"

"_Oui._" Burgundy nodded.

"Yeah, I could go for a drink or two," Trip admitted. He then turned an eye toward the trainer beside him, inquiring, "Ritchie?"

"I'm down," Ritchie agreed.

"Great," Georgia said shortly, turning the key and starting the engine. She glanced over her shoulder before starting to back out of her space. Just as she looked forward again, however, a pedestrian with long green hair walked straight in the line of her car's trajectory—and she hit him with a loud "thud," knocking his cap off in the process. Georgia immediately slammed on her break despite only going 5 mph, and Burgundy yelped at the noise of impact.

A stunned silence followed. Georgia exchanged an incredulous look with Burgundy, and then with her backseat passengers, Trip and Ritchie, and seeing their equally bewildered expressions, she snapped her head forward again.

"Un_believable,_" she muttered, shifting the gear into park and quickly exiting her car.

_**July 17th, 2009. Early Evening. Opelucid City.**_

Leaf couldn't believe her luck—if it could be called that.

She hurried brusquely down the hallway with Ash—she had ordered him to come when she heard the news—and Misty—who insisted she come right after—on her heels. When Leaf reached the designated door, she didn't stop to knock or offer her companions any special instructions; she simply threw it open and headed inside. She had to know if it was true for herself, and sure enough, there lay N on the hospital bed with the most recent copy of Coordinators Weekly in his hands. Georgia and Trip were in the room, too, though they were keeping their distance from him.

Leaf stared in disbelief. Then—and she knew this was probably a completely inappropriate reaction—she started laughing. N blinked and glanced up at her.

"Well, forget the CIU," Leaf started after catching her breath. "Apparently, all you need to catch a Team Plasma prince is to put Georgia in a goddamn car, and he'll stick to it like a magnet."

"Champion Leaf Greene," N acknowledged her, laying the magazine on his lap.

Leaf took a moment to recollect herself entirely before replying, "Hi, N."

"You brought Ash," he observed, tilting his head far to the left to see the trainer. Ash gave an awkward wave in response.

"I did." Leaf nodded.

"And he brought Pikachu." N was far more delighted at this, and quickly falling into the old routine, Ash extended his arm toward N's bed, giving Pikachu a bridge from which to leap into the stranger's arms.

"Well, it's so good to see _you_ again," N cooed, scratching Pikachu behind the ears. Georgia and Trip—whom, despite their two quite literal run-ins with the man, had not once spoken to him while conscious—looked thoroughly disturbed. Leaf and Misty exchanged a furtive glance before Leaf pulled up a chair next to his bedside.

"So, N, what were you doing when Georgia hit you... again..." she tentatively asked.

"I was on my way toward that stadium," N answered with a shrug.

"For the contest?" Misty inquired.

"Is that what it's called?" N blinked.

"You were getting in a little late there," Leaf remarked dryly. "The contest had just ended. That's why, you know, people were _leaving _the stadium."

"Oh..." N frowned. "That's a shame."

Ash cleared his throat next. "So, uh, what did Team Plasma send you to do?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant about it.

"Team Plasma did not send me," N replied with genuine nonchalance.

"They didn't?" Leaf appeared intrigued.

"No." N shook his head. "I went on my own accord. I have rescinded my association with Team Plasma."

"You _what_?!" Leaf gaped at him. This was an unexpected turn; even Misty and Ash looked surprised. They knew of his devotion to the organization—he had gone on air to try to take down the G-Men for it—so whatever had convinced him to drop his membership (or rather, princeship), it had to be serious.

"I left. Or, rather, I ran away with my sisters," N clarified.

"Why?" Ash asked.

"I found out some very horrible things." N drew into himself suddenly, shaking his head back and forth as he did. "Horrible, horrible."

"Why were you going to the contest then?" Leaf pressed. "Were you looking for us?"

"No. Running into you was a..." He stopped his shaking, pausing long enough to consider the right word, before blurting out with a laugh, "Happy surprise!" His hand dropped off Pikachu's head as he continued, "I saw what was happening in that stadium last night, in a dream—Pokémon were working with humans to create these fantastic displays, and they seemed happy. It was one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen."

"You saw the Appeals Round," Misty realized.

"I don't what that is," N said with a placid smile.

"N, you said you dreamt about seeing the contest?" Trip suddenly jumped in, having had a thought.

N looked at him confusedly, inquiring, "Who are you?"

"Irrelevant," Trip dismissed with a wave. "Answer the question."

N decided to go along with it, answering, "I did."

"And that's what led you to the stadium?"

"That's right."

"Dreaming about somewhere you need to go," Trip mused before looking directly at Ash. "Now why does that sound familiar?"

Silence followed as his insinuations sunk in. N, however, looked completely bemused by his visitors' behavior, glancing around the room at their expressions. Before anyone could respond, the door opened, and Paul slid inside.

"You got here quickly," Leaf remarked.

"I was already here," Paul said with a strange, uncharacteristic carefulness. This struck Leaf—in the wrong way, and her expression deadpanned.

"Why?" she asked. He didn't respond initially, and she grew more demanding, repeating more seriously, "Paul, why?"

* * *

The second door Leaf threw open that hour led to exactly what she didn't want to see—and there was no laughing this time around. She could see Gary was pale and feverish even from the doorway, with his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. Worse, she could see the vibrant purple coloring his scleras.

Ash, Misty, and Paul were not far behind. Professor Oak, Clemont, Brock, and Silver were present, too—how the hospital let in that many visitors was beyond Leaf—and they were all watching her, waiting for her reaction. Gary's darkened her eyes flicked toward her, too, and something inside her broke.

"You're a moron," she hissed beneath her breath. Her voice was shaking; yet, she still approached his bedside, sitting on the edge.

"I know," he said plainly. He had no plans of defending himself or denying anything. The jig was up, and he was prepared to deal with the consequences. Leaf leaned in, gently grasping the sides of his face and giving his eyes a closer examination.

"How long?" she asked quietly.

"Over a week," he answered.

"A wee—" Leaf stood up suddenly, turning away from him. The anger was starting to bubble up, and she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold it in, to contain it. She didn't want to scream at a dying man, her boyfriend, and the love of her life, no less. "How did you keep it from me for that long?!"

"The symptoms didn't start to show until yesterday," Gary confessed. "That's why I went to Nuvema Town."

Leaf cast him an incredulous look.

"Did you really have a meeting with Aurea Jupiter?" she asked.

"I _did _meet with Aurea," he qualified, but then admitted, "It wasn't pre-arranged."

"So you lied to me." Her face had hardened, and her tone was venomous.

"I was just—"

"And all of you?" Leaf whirled on Brock and the others before Gary could finish. "Did you know, too?"

"Let them be," Gary implored her. "I told them to stay quiet."

Leaf cast him a nasty look. Then she looked back at Paul, inquiring, more calmly, "Paul?"

"Leave me out of this," he said, shaking his head. "I just found out myself."

Leaf stood there, motionless, for a while. The gazes that fell upon her suddenly became suffocating, and Leaf could feel her emotions—grief, anger, everything inbetween—welling up in her throat. She couldn't bear to be there any longer, and she looked at Gary one last time, letting tears glaze over her eyes, before she flew out of the room.

* * *

"It was terrible," Concordia recalled, her expression darkening as the memory revisited her. "I was the one who found them in the forbidden room. I've never seen Pokémon look so..." She paused, struggling for the right word. Eventually, she gave up, saying. "They didn't look like themselves. Hair falling out, skin rotting, purple eyes... I had to show my sister—" She gestured to Anthea beside her. "—and N."

Iris sat alone with the two women on a bench in the hospital hallway. She had been listening to their story earnestly, desperate to glean as much information from them as possible. They were distraught and willing to share what they knew now, but Iris perceived their dreamy eyes and voices as hesitation, and she didn't want them to clamp up on her if they changed their minds.

"Were there any healthy Pokémon at all?" Iris asked.

"Not that the three of us could find." Anthea shook her head.

"Elijah Colress told me that he had a treatment for those sick Pokémon," Iris went on anyway. "Do you know anything about that?"

"They're not treating them," Concordia emphasized. "They're _torturing _them. They're the ones infecting them."

"Yes, I know Team Plasma has been infecting Pokémon," Iris reminded them; she had repeated this fact several times over. "But do they have a treatment for that infection?"

Neither Concordia nor Anthea said anything initially. They exchanged a look, seemingly speaking with their eyes, before glancing back at Iris.

"I suppose it's possible," Concordia conceded. "Colress is a very smart man."

Iris wetted her lips and lowered her head. It wasn't exactly she had hoped to hear; she wanted a confirmation. She wanted someone to tell her, definitively, that Team Plasma had a treatment, and if they infiltrated their base, they could obtain it and cure those affected, both human and Pokémon. At least, Iris inwardly conceded, the two sisters had not denied the existence entirely. There was still hope.

"You are so much nicer than our father said you were," Anthea remarked suddenly, and Iris snapped her head up.

"Excuse me?" Iris asked, blinking.

"Our father told us you were a terrible person," Concordia elaborated, "that you were a slavemaster to your Pokémon. You don't seem like one."

Denial climbed to the tip of Iris's tongue as anger surged from her chest. Of all people, _she _would be accused of mistreating Pokémon? Yet, she swallowed her furor, managed a weak smile, and asked, "Is that why your father tried to have me killed?"

Both sisters appeared surprised at this question.

"No, of course not," Anthea said.

"Then why did he want to have me killed?" Iris pressed.

"The intention was never to kill you," Concordia corrected. She then leaned uncomfortably close to Iris, so she could feel he breath. "He wanted to _scare_ you."

Iris's chest tightened. For some reason, this disturbed her more than the notion of Team Plasma wanting to kill her. There was more she wanted to ask: Scare her? For what? What would that accomplish? ... Why _didn't _they want to kill her?

"Iris." She looked up when her name was called and saw Paul standing before her. His expression told of a dire situation, and Iris immediately stood. He continued, "You and I need to talk to Leaf."

* * *

Ash was alone. He needed to be alone; he had told Misty such, and she had respected his wishes. He _did_ long, desperately so, for Pikachu to be with him then, but he was presently with N, and he couldn't confront anyone in that room yet. Georgia and Trip would surely ask what had happened, and Ash wasn't ready to explain.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed since he had left Gary's. But, it must have been quite a while, because eventually, Silver showed up, probably believing he had given him enough space. Ash was seated in a chair alongside the wall, but Silver didn't sit himself. Instead, he leaned against the wall parallel to Ash, sliding his hands into his pocket.

"I'm sorry," he started. He sounded sincere. "I know Gary's one of your best friends."

Ash sucked in his breath.

"We have to go find Mewtwo," he resolved. He looked at Silver directly before continuing, "When I saw N, he was talking about seeing the contest in his dream, and that's what led him to the stadium. I bet Mewtwo showed the stadium, and that's why—"

"—We don't need to find Mewtwo," Silver cut him off suddenly, and Ash appeared confused.

"Why not?" he asked.

Silver said nothing for a moment. He lowered his eyes, apparently conflicted, and Ash straightened up. A confession was coming.

"I was the one who told Mewtwo to show N the stadium," Silver admitted. "It was hard, because he didn't know where N was, and it's harder to establish contact that way, so he was just... sifting through minds based on what I was telling him." He paused before adding, "That's where I was last night and today."

Ash stared.

"_What?_" He was more confused than before, and Silver sighed, realizing he would need to elaborate.

"When were helping set up for the contest," he began, "and I started hearing about all these precautions the CIU was putting into place, I knew there was no way Team Plasma would ever send someone. I doubted it from the beginning. That's why I had to draw N in another way."

Ash nodded, showing his attentiveness as well as encouraging him to continue.

"You see, you and Leaf and Drew have all misjudged Team Plasma," Silver went on, prompting to Ash to perk up, both intrigued and somewhat alarmed. "You genuinely think Team Plasma is an actual anti-league radical group who wants to liberate Pokémon. No, N is the only one who cares about that. Maybe a few others. The only reason Team Plasma hates the league is because it wants its power. Everything Team Plasma has done—the assassination attempt on Iris, the virus, the SAMPLe bullshit—it's all been a part of a plan to overthrow the league and come into power. N is a figurehead whose nice-sounding ideals are meant to help turn people against the league and complete Team Plasma's _coup dé'tat_."

Ash's eyes has widened as Silver delved further into his explanation. He let out a breath, letting him process Silver's assertions before asking, "How do you know this?"

Silver briefly pressed his lips together, then smacked them, saying, "I know because there are former Team Rocket members in Team Plasma. ... They didn't join because they suddenly felt passionate about the cause of Pokémon liberation. They joined because Ghetsis has the same goal as my father, except Ghetsis's plan has an actual chance of succeeding."

Ash let out a long breath.

"You..." Ash looked at Silver strangely as revelation dawned upon him "... knew this all along, didn't you?"

He had him.

"When I saw that Barret Dunstan had tried to kill Iris," Silver confessed, "I told myself I wasn't going to get involved, that you guys would be able to figure it out on your own. Turns out the G-Men is still as stupid as it was seven years ago, even with Leaf in charge." He pulled his hands from his pockets, rubbing them together and averting his eyes before he added, "... Once I changed my mind and became open to the idea of helping you guys, that's when Mewtwo's vision came."

Ash's face remained expressionless for a while. Then, it transformed—into a grin again, a smile which had won over dozens since his 10th birthday.

"You _do_ care about us," Ash said proudly, and Silver only stared.

* * *

There was no safe space for her here, Leaf realized. There was no safe space for her anywhere, really.

She could definitely say that she felt out of place sitting in Iris's office, the lights out, trying to recuperate; it wasn't her place to claim. Yet, she couldn't insist there was anywhere for her overseas, in Kanto, either. She had "her" office—but it was never hers. It was Lance's, and it always had been for as long as she could remember. She had "her" hometown—but she wasn't born there, and she wasn't born to the parents who had raised her there. She had "her" apartment—a place that collected dust, because she was never in it, because she was here, and because she was the Indigo Champion.

It had never dawned on Leaf that she had no home until then, when she had nowhere to go, and no one to go to.

"The average prognosis for the Pokérus is usually a month." Lance's voice broke into the silence, into the darkness. "Gary still has time. We still have time."

Leaf was turned away from him. She was on the sofa, her arms wrapped around her knees, her eyes turned toward the long window that grew from the ground up behind Iris's desk.

"Karina lasted eight days," Leaf muttered bitterly.

"Karina was already sick," Lance reminded her. "Gary was in good health. Think logically."

"Gary is already in the hospital," Leaf lamented. She laid her chin atop her knees. "What am I going to do? We're not close to a treatment yet."

"Bring new researchers on board," Lance said, as though it were obvious. "Aurea Juniper is in the area. So is her assistant, Bianca Schroeder."

Leaf was seized with a sudden fury—one she had never experienced before, one she couldn't explain. Normally, when her anger grew as intense as it was now, she melted into a manic, angry frenzy, like when the referee threw her the match. This was different, though. It was contained; it was inside, burning her up, but one could hardly tell from her seemingly calm exterior.

She stiffly turned her head toward Lance, looking at him for the first time since they had spoken.

"I'm—I'm sorry, Lance," she said hoarsely, mechanically. "I can't talk to you right now."

Lance blinked. He remained expressionless, but he was nevertheless estranged by her behavior.

"Very well," he said. And he left. The door was still open, allowing the light of the hallway to fall inside.

Leaf was alone for a few more minutes, but it ended. It ended, because a shadow fell upon her, and she knew someone had come to see her. She didn't know who, but she didn't care.

"Please, I just want to be left alone," she said before they could speak first.

"No." It was Paul. Leaf turned her head again, revealing the red, tear-stained ring around her eyes in the yellow light. She could make out both Paul and Iris standing there.

"I am going to scream at you if you keep pestering me," she warned.

"Scream, then," Paul ordered bluntly. Leaf didn't, though. A growl emerged from the back of her throat and she jerked her head toward Iris, appealing to her instead, thinking she could sway her more easily. Yet, Iris shook her head.

"Leaf, you can't shut down," she said gently. "We need to figure out what's next, for us, and for Gary."

"I can't—"

"—I understand it's—" Iris pressed, and that was when Leaf snapped.

"—No, you _don't _understand." Leaf voice rose as she leapt to her feet, glaring at them both.

Iris recoiled back, but Paul remained firm. Leaf heaved several weighty breaths, reeling in her temper.

"I am giving up—" Leaf eventually spoke again, but there was a long pause as she rose her hands toward her face and then threw them down again. "—_everything _for this organization. For this cause." Paul and Iris waited, listening, as Leaf briefly bit her tongue; she refused to cry in front of them. "I was failed by every nearly adult who came into my life: whoever my birth parents were, my adoptive parents, Lance... I spent most of my childhood not knowing who I was, or where I came from, or what my purpose even was, and no one could—or would—answer these questions for me."

It was here Leaf managed to regain enough control of her emotions that she didn't fear breaking down again. So, she continued, "Lance was the only one who gave me a purpose: Join the G-Men. Become the Indigo Champion. Change things. But that was all he ever gave me." Her voice was devoid of feeling. "As a consequence, I've tied nearly all my self-worth into this mission. I've poured everything I've got into the success of this country, and into you two. I've created enemies and alienated friends, because _I learned from the best_." She said these words bitterly, and Iris sucked in her breath. Paul's eyes had widened slightly, too.

Never, in their seven-year friendship, had they heard such utter contempt—almost hatred—for Lance coming from Leaf.

"And for what?" Leaf posed the question rhetorically. "For Ash Ketchum to take my title, to break the cycle, and to start to change things, like how I wanted, like how we wanted." A pause. "But I was okay with that, because once it was over, I would still have Gary..." Vulnerability seeped back into Leaf's tone as she concluded, "I've given all my life away, and if he's gone, I'll have nothing left."

She sunk to sofa again and turned her head away. Iris looked up at Paul, expecting him to speak—but he was as speechless as she. Iris lowered her eyes toward Leaf again and swallowed. Leaf had been their leader—the one they had depended on when crises like this one struck—and now she had fallen apart, leaving the reins hanging low.

Iris clenched her jaw.

"You won't have nothing," she firmly, almost confidently assured her. "I'll make sure of it."

She spun on her heel, heading for the door. Paul looked after her, bewildered, before following.

"Iris!" He caught up with her further down the hallway. "What are you planning?"

Iris whirled around to face him.

"I need you to call Ash," she told him. "Tell him he needs to convince N to bring us to Team Plasma's hideout. I'm going to talk to Drew, rally some people together..."

Paul let out a short, incredulous breath. "Iris, you can't be serious," he said.

"I am."

"We don't know if they have a cure or not," Paul reminded her.

"Maybe they do." Iris wouldn't be deterred. "I talked to N's sisters, and they said..."

"They said what?" Paul remained unconvinced, and Iris's chest tightened. She knew what Anthea and Concordia had really said; she knew the score. And yet...

"Regardless," Iris said, unmoved, "Team Plasma has to pay for what it's done."

.

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	28. XXVII: In Which Bianca Mourns Her Loss

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Chapter XXVII: In Which Bianca Mourns Her Loss

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_**July 20th, 2009. Early Morning. Opelucid City.**_

Steven outstretched his hand and, into Gary's open palm, delicately placed a silver lapel with a polished, iridescent material embedded in the crown-like setting. Gary pulled his hand back and, holding the lapel between his thumb and index finger, brought the accessory close to examine the beautiful, minute details: the multi-colored bands that rippled beneath the pearly surface, the faint print of double-helix design at its center, the slight glow that briefly emanated from its core the moment it touched Gary's skin.

Silence followed. Gary lowered his hand, his fingers enclosing upon the lapel. He remained in the hospital, laying in bed—but his research had not ended with his admittance. Medical reports, uncollated pages of his thesis, and a copy of his grandfather's book, _The Symbiosis Between Pokémon and Humans_, laid scattered across the sheets; he had kept contact with those still working in the Pokémon Center and was, on nearly all counts, still the head of the small research team desperate for a treatment to the deadly Pokérus. Although, Gary now suspected they were preparing to phase him out, and perhaps rightfully so.

Gary tossed the lapel up and caught it again.

"You're right, Steven," he said. "I feel so much better."

Steven frowned. "I detect some sarcasm, Mr. Oak," he remarked.

"An astute observation," Gary said dryly, handing back the Key Stone that Steven had given him. He added, with greater tact, "I'm not trying to discount your expertise."

"Nor am I trying to discount yours," Steven replied. "It's simply another avenue to explore, and we have more backing to it. N gave us the location to Team Plasma's base, and Clay confirmed: It's near an abandoned mine which previously harvested Ciete. What if Team Plasma has discovered that as part of the treatment?" Gary appeared no more or less convinced, but Steven wasn't ready to walk out without saying his final piece.

"It fits the timeline," Steven insisted more urgently. Gary sighed inwardly and leaned back; he had no plans to stop Steven from going on his tangent, but Gary had already entertained Steven's theory with zero results. Then again, hardly anything had seen results.

"The main argument against ties between Mega Evolution, the virus, and that Mew tablet have been that the tablet is 4,000 years old and Mega Evolution is a new phenomena—but that simply isn't true," Steven continued. "There was a period where we lost the knowledge of how to use Mega Evolution, and only now are we re-discovering it. Many modern researchers, including myself, theorize that it disappeared around the time of the Red and Green Wars during the Middle Ages. People used Pokémon as tools in their conflict, thereby damaging the connection between humans and Pokémon, which is the key component of Mega Evolution."

"I need antiviral drugs Steven, not a rock," Gary said bluntly. It was obvious he had been ready with this response the moment Steven started to speak, and the geologist appeared somewhat miffed upon this revelation.

"It's far more than a rock," he corrected. "Cieite is a unique ore with unusual properties we don't fully understand yet. Although..." He hesitated before conceding, "This isn't pure Ciete."

Gary raised his brow. "Not pure?" he inquired.

"Mega Stones have started to enter mass production now," Steven explained. "Rarely will you ever see a Key or Mega Stone made purely of Ciete. You can tell this Key Stone has been adulterated by other materials." He leaned forward toward Gary, holding the Key Stone out to him once more. "See the rainbow-like bands? That's not a natural part of Ciete."

Gary said nothing. Steven closed his hand, concealing the encrusted lapel once more.

"Perhaps therein lies the problem," he mused. "This isn't pure Ciete. Maybe if I get a pure sample, it will lead us somewhere." Steven stood, apparently reinvigorated by his new theory, but Gary remained as skeptical as ever.

"Is Ciete supposed to have healing properties?" he asked.

"It's a powerful concentration of energy," Steven answered. "It's believed it's the source from which Pokémon draw their additional power when they Mega Evolve."

"Yeah, the virus already gives the Pokémon additional power," Gary pointed out. "We don't need more power; we need to temper it." Steven pressed his lips together, silent, knowing the reasoning was valid. Gary then concluded, "I don't think it's the Ciete."

Steven didn't let it deter him.

"Nevertheless, I'll request a sample of the ore be sent from my collection," he said. He repinned the lapel to his shirt and started to turn toward the door. "You'll have to excuse me. I'm expected soon."

"Good luck," Gary offered. "Tell Leaf that for me, too."

"I'll pass along your regards," Steven assured as he opened the door. "Stay well a little longer." He left, and Gary fell back against his pillow once again. His room's window was cracked open, and through it came a slight breeze that rippled through the plain, pale green curtains.

"I'll do my best," Gary mumbled aloud, though no one was there to hear it.

* * *

May carefully drew her mascara brush through her eyelashes, but an ill-timed blink left a black imprint beneath her eyes. She hummed a frustrated laugh and sheathed the brush into its tube again before grabbing a towelette and wiping away the offending make-up.

"Maybe I need to ask Zoey or Dawn to help me out," she remarked aloud, but her comments received no response. She knitted her brow together, thinking the reference was at least worth a chuckle—real or not—so she poked her head outside the bathroom and saw Drew silently packing away a team of Pokémon. His head was lowered, his eyes were narrow, concentrated, and his lips were pressed into a thin, hard line; he looked deep in thought, causing May to wonder whether he had heard her at all.

"Drew?" she inquired, stepping outside the bathroom more fully. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything is great," he said shortly without looking her way. His on-the-beat response suggested he had, at least, heard her earlier and chosen not to say anything. May frowned and cautiously approached, drawing her arms close to herself as she did.

"It doesn't sound like it is," she said carefully.

Drew abruptly pushed in the drawer of his nightstand.

"Why are we doing this?" he asked; the question drew a strange look from May.

"Why wouldn't we be?" she returned.

"I'm just..." Drew turned to face her. "... tired of being pulled into business that isn't ours."

"Business that isn't—" Genuine confusion crossed May's expression, but she stopped short and began anew. "Wasn't it you complaining last month about how we weren't being included by Leaf and the others? And wasn't it you who suggested we use the contest as a way to draw in Team Plasma?" Drew said nothing, and May continued, "It's always been our business. You were the one who made that argument. What's changed now?"

Drew was silent for a moment longer. Then, he quietly started, "May..." He wasn't able to say anything more; his tone was revealing, and May looked at him with incredulity before turning away with a harrumph.

"Oh wait, don't tell me. I already know," she said, eliciting greater visible frustration from Drew.

"Well, there's no need to get snappy," he grumbled.

"Snappy?" May repeated hotly. "You're the one standing over here pouting instead of talking to me!"

"You haven't given me an option to talk," Drew retorted.

"You haven't given me an option at all," May threw back. She paused and, taking a deep breath, attempted to calm herself down. "I feel like I'm being forced to choose between you and being Champion, and that's not fair."

"Why would you even want to be Champion?" Drew pressed a hand to his face as he spoke; he had also toned down the anger in his voice to match May's evening. Yet, his response managed to provoke his girlfriend's ire again.

"See, this is what I mean when I say you're not giving me an option," she said. "You won't even acknowledge the possibility that I might do this."

Drew, again, had nothing to say; May, again, folded her arms and shifted her weight to her left hip.

"I told you my plan," she continued. "I just want your support. You know I would support you in anything; I just wish you would be the same way." May then promptly turned on her heel, snapped up her bag on the table, and headed toward the door. Yet, her hands caught on the frame before she exited, and she looked pointedly at Drew before adding, on a final note, "It would be you if it wasn't me."

* * *

"There," Nurse Joy said with a placid smile as she set a tray of six Pokéballs down on the counter in front of Serena. "You're Pokémon are in great health and are ready for..." She paused, searching for the right word, the right phrase—a polite, indirect good luck. "... whatever battles may be ahead of you," she eventually finished.

Serena curtly nodded to her, understanding her intimations, before she started packing away the six Pokéballs. Joy remained at the counter, watching her, and it became increasingly obvious there was more she wanted to inquire. It filled Serena with unease, since she herself didn't have many answers to give; nevertheless, she courteously lifted her gaze when Joy cleared her throat to speak.

"If you don't mind me asking," the nurse began tentatively, "just what _are_ the G-Men planning to do?"

Serena withdrew the final Pokéball into her bag. Then, she quietly responded, "I'm not 100 percent sure myself."

Nurse Joy hummed at first, disatisfied by this answer. She eventually continued, "I'm not sure if you're aware, but this morning, Professor Juniper and her assistant—Bianca, I think her name was?—arrived at the center. They're—" She hesitated to say the word. "—replacing the young Oak. I haven't heard of his condition since he first went to the hospital. I am quite worried about him; I haven't worked with him long, but I do like him, and I can tell this is tearing his grandfather apart."

"We're all concerned," Serena assured her.

"I'm just hoping," Joy went on with a more pithy edge in her tone, "that the G-Men are taking the necessary steps to find a treatment from other sources, because I'm losing faith whether we will find one ourselves in time."

Serena inwardly winced; she felt a touch of irritation at the caregiver's blunt words, though she knew, in her heart, that she was only voicing aloud what many others were thinking at that point, herself included. Serena glanced back at Clemont and Bonnie, who were sitting together on a sofa in the middle of the lobby, and frowned. Clemont was looking ill, wringing his hands together. Serena was certain the same anxieties were on his mind, and he would be in a better place to judge the situation than her, because he had been more closely working with the research team.

"I really don't know much," Serena repeated, looking back at Joy. "And even if I did, I'm not sure I'd be at liberty to say anything. I'm not even Napajian."

"I know." Joy nodded. "It speaks to the G-Men's desperation that they're allowing people from outside the country to help them." She paused before adding, "But, it also speaks to your character for your willingness to help."

Serena blinked.

"I'm helping because they're my friends," she said without thinking. It caught her off guard, though, to hear those words pass through her own lips. Were they friends? She, and Clemont and Bonnie, were still outsiders in many respects. She had said it herself: They weren't even Napajian.

Still. There was warmth in them, warmth they had shared with her, if for no other reason that she was connected to Ash. That alone had caused her to be readily accepted by them, supported by them, the unique crowd they were. Her lips twitched into an unexpected, though weak smile before she added, "Anyway, thank you for checking on my Pokémon. I'm sure Gary's going to be okay. Paul, Iris... Leaf... they wouldn't let anything happen to him."

"I hope you're right," Joy said as Serena turned away and returned to her companions. Neither of Liscio siblings noticed as she approached from behind, but Clemont perked up in surprise, some color returning to his face, as Serena laid a hand on his shoulder and he turned to see her.

"You ready to go?" she asked him with some renewed vim. It was unexpected, coming from her. She was normally more reticent than him, even in his ailing condition; Bonnie had always been their impetus toward action. So, of course, the younger sibling leapt up with fire in her eyes, not to be outdone.

"Born ready!" she declared. Clemont exchanged a glance between both young women, but was more reassured by Serena's smile. He eventually nodded, smiling himself, and standing too.

* * *

In the mornings, N was used to hearing the distinct, plaintive calls of Pidove from outside his window. It was a comforting sound, one with which he had been familiar throughout his entire life; so, he found it unusual that when in the city, he could hear nothing of the sort. Yet, on that particular morning—his first away from the industry of the hospital—he could faintly hear a pair of Pidove's coos from within the former Opelucid Gym.

He had searched to find them, but to no avail. And any time he felt close, he was interrupted by the shared, single-minded mission of his hosts.

"So the room where they keep the Pokémon—it's on the first floor?"

The question was directed toward him, N knew. Yet, he was silent as he pressed aside the simple-patterned fabric of a curtain that hung over a large window and peered outside, his gaze surveying the area. The Opelucid Gym was sequestered from the heart and heat of the city, and perhaps that was why N could hear the Pidove—but why could he not see them?

"N," Paul, the issuer of the inquiry, repeated impatiently.

"Yes, the bottom floor," N answered more immediately. Paul furrowed his brow, visibly miffed, especially since it was apparent N wasn't offering his full attention.

"That's different," Paul said.

"Is it?" N didn't blink. He hadn't even turned his head; he was still searching outside the window.

"The first floor is the first level above ground. The bottom floor can be—a basement," Paul clarified.

"I see," N mused, but he said nothing further. Paul was silent for a moment, expecting an elaboration, but his ire increased with N's prolonged laconism, and he cleared his throat to speak again.

"So which is it?" Paul half-demanded now.

"Which is what?"

"Is it on the first floor or is it in a basement?" Paul rephrased the question.

N pursed his lips. "We never did call it a basement," he said, and Paul nearly snapped.

"This isn't a discussion about semantics," Paul growled.

"It certainly seems like one," N remarked calmly, looking back at the Sinnoh Champion for the first time in a long while.

"You know what, never mind." Paul shook his head. "I'll just ask your sisters." He turned on his heel, making a bee-line for the door. Ash was sure to quickly step out of the way, but Silver remained where he stood. Paul paused just long enough to lean toward Silver, murmuring, "It was so much easier with you. At least you drew us a map." Then he was on his way. Silver raised his brow and exchanged a quick look with Ash, whose mouth twisted into a frown before he stepped forward, toward N.

"Hey N," he started. "Is... everything okay?"

N let the curtain fall.

"I remember..." he began, slowly turning toward Ash and the others. "... one morning, they dressed me in white and hung a large cloak around my shoulders. I was paraded down a long hallway, one father—" He faltered. Paul stopped at the door, glancing back at N, who soon resumed with a correction. "—Ghetsis had never let me see before. There were so many there watching me as I sat upon the throne; Ghetsis place a crown on top of my head and declared I was the Prince of Team Plasma, and that I would lead us to a better future—one where Pokemon and man lived separately, one where Pokemon were free from our bonds."

"What's the point of this story?" Paul spoke up again, turning away from the door. N's lips curled into a sad kind of smile.

"I'm betraying everything I was destined to be," he remarked.

"Don't tell me you're having second thoughts," Paul said, moving back toward the center of the room.

"No." N shook his head. "I know what I saw for myself. Regardless, I hope it was the right decision to trust you."

"Have we given you any reason to not trust us?" Paul asked. N let out a strange—almost unnerving—chuckle. Ash drew back, standing near Silver, but he and Paul held their ground.

"I've heard stories of you and your organization, Paul Rebolledo," N continued after a moment. He then fixated his gaze on Ash, addressing him directly. "It's a wonder you would be a part of it, Ash, from everything you and Oscar ever told me about yourself."

Ash tensed up for a brief moment, but he quickly shook it off.

"I-I mean," Ash started, "I dunno what Ghetsis has told you about us—I'm sure he's said a lot—but we're not bad. The G-Men wants to help Pokémon like you do."

The doubt did not dissipate from N's eyes. His gaze wandered toward the Pikachu on Ash's shoulder, and the Electric-type's ears pricked up with some alarm at the glance.

"Well, your Pikachu trusts you, so I believe I can, too," N said before looking forward again. "Excuse me." He moved past the group, out the door—to where, none of them could be sure, but Ash, at least, presumed it was to find a different window. As soon as Paul was sure N was gone, a low rumble emerged from the back of his throat, and he turned toward Ash and Silver, as if they would have the answers.

"Why are we doing this?" he asked aloud. "He blathers about trustworthiness and the lack thereof—well, that's the pot calling the kettle black. I sure hope Iris knows what she's doing, because we could be walking ourselves straight into a trap."

"Action is better than inaction." Silver shrugged.

Paul whipped his head toward the redhead. "You shut your mouth," he snarled.

"That wasn't a personal gibe," Silver said coolly, though intrigued he had apparently, albeit mistakenly, hit a sore spot.

"Hey, hey!" Ash physically got between the two, holding up his hands. The memory, though old, of their last tension-ridden encounter came back to him, and it had resulted in Paul slamming Silver against the inner wall of a moving train, and Ash had no interest in seeing anything like that repeated. "There's no need to fight. We're all on the same side."

"Questionable," Paul mumbled.

"I'm looking to take down Team Plasma just the same as you," Silver reminded him, now irritated too. "We just have different motivations."

"Those being?" Paul questioned.

"I have unfinished business in it," Silver said sharply, though vaguely before he headed toward the door, too, needing to escape the situation and cool down. Silence followed. Ash lowered his hands.

"He means Team Rock—" Ash started, but Paul cut him off.

"—I know what he meant." Paul looked away and sighed. The door creaked open again, and Agent Murray slid inside.

"Sir," he addressed Paul politely, "Brandon has arrived. He's requested to speak with you."

"I told you already," Paul dismissed, "let Leaf talk to him, not me."

"I know," the agent said, nodding, "but I haven't seen Leaf all morning."

Paul pursed his lips. Ash looked at him, then at Agent Murray, then at Pikachu worriedly.

"Fantastic," Paul murmured.

* * *

"Thoughts?" Dawn inquired, turning one of two mannequins around to face her primary audience: Concordia and Anthea, though they were in the company of Kenny, Zoey, and Barry. Yet, the three others kept their space from the sisters, as though there were some unsung distrust between the division, and both sides were remaining cautious.

Anthea had nothing to comment, but Concordia approached the mannequin to more closely examine the finer details. Dawn watched anxiously as the blonde bent down to look over her needlework; then, she straightened up and, directing her gaze toward Dawn, said in a light, dreamy voice, "Yes, this is perfect. It looks just like the real thing."

Dawn let out a long breath, happy to have at least 50 percent approval.

"Good," she said, glancing back at the mannequin. "I just hope others think the same."

"They will!" Kenny interjected reassuringly. "Don't sweat it—no need to worry. You're a great seamstress, and in a year, you'll even have a piece of paper that proves it."

Dawn smiled weakly, appreciative of his encouragement. Regardless, she said, "Replication is different from design." Dawn now turned the mannequin toward her and picked up a small pair of sewing scissors to snip off a short, fraying edge. "Now I just need our models to try them on so I can make any last-minute adjustments."

"Wow, we're really cutting it close here, huh?" Barry remarked, but Dawn wasn't quite as appreciative of his pun.

"Well, I wasn't exactly given ample time to work," she admitted. This was true: Paul approached her late Friday, and now it was Sunday morning, meaning she had only had one full day to finish the project. At least, Paul had the sense to bring her some coffee—and a blanket, when she ended up falling asleep on the couch in her workspace.

"Yeah, we're definitely in a rush," Zoey mumbled before rising to her feet. "I'll go find your models."

"Thanks, Zoey," Dawn told her as she left. Zoey merely nodded to her before exiting the door—and on her way out, she slid past Paul, who was on his way inside. Dawn pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear upon his entrance but snapped her head back toward her mannequin, apparently intending to look busy, to look disaffected by his arrival while in the presence of others. Regardless, Barry and Kenny both noticed a change in her behavior.

Paul paused for a moment, giving her mannequins a once-over. "They look good," he complimented.

"Thank you," Dawn said with a small nod.

"Have you seen Leaf?" Paul then immediately got straight to the point of this conversation, and Dawn knitted her eyebrows together.

"No, why?" she replied.

"She's been M.I.A. since this morning, and she's not responding to my messages," Paul explained. "I was hoping she might have dropped in to see you."

"Sorry, I haven't heard anything from her," Dawn said, almost sheepishly. She wished she could help, but in truth, she had hardly seen Leaf in days. Their preparations were largely managed by Iris, and Paul, and Wallace, and...

Paul pressed his lips into a hard line, but said, "Well, if you see her, tell her I'm looking for her." Dawn nodded, and Paul turned to look toward Kenny and Barry. "Same goes for you two."

"Right-O, sir." Barry saluted him. Paul's gaze moved toward Concordia and Anthea next, and he remembered his prior task before he had sent himself on a mission to find Leaf.

"Basement or first floor?" he asked plainly.

"Excuse me?" Anthea blinked.

"Where is Colress keeping the Pokémon?" Paul clarified.

"Oh... It's accessible from the first floor. You must head down the main hallway, and he's keeping them in a ballroom. That's where I saw them doing their experimentation," Anthea answered. Paul decided he far preferred the sisters, though strange, to N.

"Thank you," he said. "Would you be willing to talk one of our operatives through getting into there?"

"I thought N was doing that," Concordia spoke up.

"I'm just asking if you're willing," Paul pressed, deciding it was better not to voice his displeasure regarding their adoptive brother. They seemed to be a tight-knit group, and their support of the mission was tentative at best. If one bowed out, they all would.

"I suppose," Anthea agreed.

Paul nodded and turned to leave, ready to resume his search, but he stopped when he noticed Dawn worriedly contemplating the mannequins. Her eyes trailed over each detail carefully, searching for some anomaly she couldn't possibly identify on her own, and Paul knew why.

"Dawn," he called out her; she snapped her head toward him. "This isn't your first time doing this. Just breathe."

And she did.

"Right," she said. "Thanks."

* * *

"There are so many people—more than there were at the inauguration," May observed, looking out at the crowd that had gathered together on the bottom floor of the gym. "I think I've seen Gym Leaders from every region here." She stood beside Drew, and both his and her arms were folded; the tension between them was evident to their companions—Solidad, Harley, and Max—and they knew it was only a matter of time before their body language turned verbal.

"The loyalty Gym Leaders have for their Champions is impressive," Solidad said, taciturn, "even for newcomers." At this, Harley scoffed.

"Oh please," he said with a roll of his eyes. "Half of these people are here because you've got Cynthia and Lance in the background. The others have still got to prove themselves."

"Well, I suppose today is grounds for that," Max remarked, adjusting his glasses as he glanced at a couple of nearby fellow Hoenn Gym Leaders: Flannery and Roxanne. They were speaking alone, conspiring together, wearing serious expressions. In an effort to keep the G-Men's operation low-key, the details of the mission had been kept relatively vague, but Max was certain they had leaked out among them, and there were some hesitations.

"Yeah." May pressed her arms closer to her. "Talk about a lot of pressure." Max knew what was on her mind; Drew knew, too, but did a poor job concealing his chagrin. Had the others not been there, or had he not been interrupted, he might have said something.

"May!" May perked up upon hearing her name called, and she looked to see Zoey approaching. Zoey touched her upper arm, indicating they needed to leave. "You're needed."

"I am?" She blinked, but then she remembered. "Oh, right."

"Want me to come along?" Drew offered.

"No, you wouldn't want to be involved anyway," May dismissed, and she left with Zoey without another word. Harley whistled as soon as she was out of earshot.

"Ooh, shut down," he teased. "Have a fight?" Drew glared, but said nothing. Solidad was prepared to pull him aside and ask more privately, but it wasn't long before Drew was retrieved, too.

"Drew." Paul appeared suddenly, emerging from the throng. "Have you seen Leaf?"

"No, I just got here," Drew grumbled in response. He stopped then, hating the way his own voice sounded in that moment, and appended, "Everything okay?"

Either Paul didn't care to answer or didn't want to; regardless, Drew, as well as anyone, could guess that this had something to do with Gary. Still, Paul offered no explanation as he said, "Do me a favor and tell Iris that Brandon is here." He turned away. "Someone needs to talk to him."

"Why not you, then?" Drew asked. It was a legitimate question, but it was one Paul was also unwilling to answer.

"Where's your girlfriend?" Paul threw back. Drew was unsure exactly what Paul intended by his antagonistic query. Either Paul had picked up on the strain of their relationship from May's absence and was aiming to, with his words, press a red-hot brand into a sensitive spot in the same way Drew inadvertently had, or he was making a subtle statement: If you're not going to do it, then May will. And either way, it stung.

Drew fell back.

"All right," he begrudgingly agreed. "I'll talk to her." Paul nodded and left; Drew cast his eyes toward Solidad and the others. "I'll catch up with you later," he said before departing, too.

* * *

Burgundy leaned up against the wall, wringing her hands together, occasionally looking up at the ceiling at nothing in particular, as if it would hide the true beholder of her attention. She was alone, but Chili was not. He was a short distance away, sitting beside Cress on some bleachers, deep in conversation. There came a point, however, when Cress started to notice Burgundy was lingering nearby and that she was, in fact, not staring thoughtlessly at the ceiling for no reason. And when that point came, he excused himself, stood up, and passed by her without so much as a glance, but the hint was clear.

Chili had watched Cress go and, therefore, seen Burgundy. She hesitated, but soon approached with arms folded.

"Where's he off to?" she asked. Chili's lips twitched into a smile as he shrugged.

"Dunno," he said. "Where's Georgia? You two are usually attached at the hip."

"Well, she has a new hip attachment," Burgundy mumbled. "Trip had to go somewhere, and she went with him."

"Ah, right—" Chili's smile widened into a grin. "—the other lucky guy that evening." Burgundy was clearly unamused, so Chili put his hands up defensively and coolly said, "Hey, don't give me that face. You don't have to talk to me anymore, remember?"

He had a point. Still, Burgundy let out an irritated sigh before saying, "Yeah, well, Ritchie and I don't know each other that well, so I think he went off to find Misty or Barry or one of his infinite other friends."

Chili raised his brow. "Sounds like you need some company," he said. He gestured toward the open spot beside him. "Sit." She resentfully sat. Chili dropped his chin into his palm and, while maintaining his lopsided grin, asked, "So what's got you so hot and bothered?" Burgundy became even more annoyed, and Chili decided to ditch his nonchalance. "Sorry. I'll be serious. Question still stands, though."

It was a good invitation, but pride prevented Burgundy from replying right away. She dropped her hands to her thighs and slid them to her knees, thinking, before stretching her head back. "I'm doing this for all the wrong reasons," she said.

"Doing what?"

"_This._" Burgundy gestured toward the crowd. "Being here—preparing to battle against Team Plasma." Her gaze settled on Ritchie and Misty, who were a short distance away and speaking with Paul. "They're scared they're going to lose their friend. That's what pushed them to this point. Me—I'm here because I'm vindictive."

Chili watched the trio, too. Ritchie was shaking his head, but Misty chimed in to explain something. Paul listened intently and eventually frowned.

"Is that what's got you out of sorts?" Chili said. Burgundy cast him a cautious glance, and he added, "Look at it this way: At least you're seeking revenge on the bad guys for a change. That's not vindictive; that's righteous indignation."

Burgundy stared. Then, she almost smiled.

"You should be serious more often," she said, to which Chili shrugged.

"You should talk to me more often," he said.

* * *

Drew was sulking. Anyone who saw him would know it, but fortunately, the hallway leading up to Iris's office—where he presumed he would find her—was empty. His presumptions were correct: He was not yet at the door when he began to hear Iris and Cilan's voices from within. Their words were indistinguishable at first, but as he drew closer, he could start to hear bits of their conversation.

"_I'll admit I have my reservations..._" Cilan mused aloud, his voice trailing off.

"_I do, too,_" Iris admitted. "_What choice do we have, though? If we wait any longer, we might lose N and his sisters._"

"_At least, their feelings of betrayal at the hands of Ghetsis seem to outweigh their suspicions toward us. It's a good thing we have Ash and Silver—N likes them, and you've somewhat won over Concordia and Anthea. Still, it's not the most secure arrangement._"

"_I know._" A pause. "_Drayden told me neither he nor Alder are coming._"

"_Oh Iris, I don't think that's—_" There was an ache in Cilan's voice, but Iris quickly cut him off to correct him.

"_—I know,_" she said. She evidently hadn't meant to imply she believed her mentors were disappointed in her. She then clarified, "_They want me to have full accountability, so that I earn the credit for success._"

Drew was at the door now, his hand about to press against the wooden panes and push the entrance fully open—but then Cilan spoke again.

"I'm proud of you, you know," he said. Drew stopped. He could see Cilan's back to the door through the opened crack; Iris was sitting on the edge of her desk, her legs crossed and arms folded, but her head perked up at her husband's remark.

"For what?" she asked.

"For this." Cilan made a sweeping gesture with his hands. "For making these decisions. They're difficult decisions to make, and you're seeing them through. I think a lot of people respect that." He stopped before adding, "I saw Grimsley earlier."

Iris momentarily appeared unphased by this news. Then, she blinked and looked down, chewing on her bottom lip. Cilan had meant to encourage her, but instead, he had added greater pressure. She managed to laugh it off, though, and say, "Well, we'll see how he feels at the end of the day."

"Regardless of how the day goes, you'll always have my support," Cilan offered, to which Iris scoffed. But, she soon smiled again, appreciative of what he was trying to do.

"I knew there was a reason I let you stick around," she said. Drew's hand slid down to the doorknob, grasping it tightly—almost painfully so. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, feeling a sting of guilt, for many reasons—one of them being that he was eavesdropping. He raised his other hand and knocked on the wooden frame before pushing the door open. Iris lifted her gaze toward him the entrance, surprised, while Cilan turned around to face their visitor, wearing a similar expression.

"Sorry to interrupt," Drew hastily apologized. "Brandon's here. Paul wanted me to tell you, so you could talk to him."

Something about his wording didn't sit well with Iris. She pressed her lips into a hard line before replying, "Okay... thank you." Drew nodded to her and quickly left. Iris twisted her body back around toward her desk, searching for something atop it: her cell phone. With the device in her hand, she dove into her contacts and immediately dialed a number.

"Paul?" she started a little tensely when the other end picked up.

* * *

N stared at the large map spread out on the table before him, his eyes carefully scanning each contour line, each patch of gray or green. Finally he lifted a finger and pointed at an area north of Opelucid City. "I believe it's here," he decided.

His company—a largely skeptical group consisting of Brandon, Wallace, Steven, Cynthia, Lance, Adalet, and Adam Surge—exchanged doubting glances among one another. Misty, Silver, and Ash were also there, the latter two if only because they were best at preventing him from wandering off, and they, too, realized there wasn't much comfort to be had in N's words. Ash frowned before casting Misty and his sibling an anxious look.

Surge cleared his throat to speak. "You 'believe'?" he asked.

"Yes, I do believe." N nodded. "Is something wrong?"

"We're looking for something a little stronger than 'believe,'" Cynthia tried to say gently.

"What do you mean?" N blinked.

"We need to be sure," Lance said more firmly. "We already took satellite images of the area you pointed out to us, and there was nothing."

"It's there," N said lightly, which did nothing to convince his audience. Brandon pressed his lips together, thinking.

"There is a lot of foliage in the area which may concealing the base," he finally said. "I'll map our course. There's a clearing about 10 miles south of the location; we'll land there, so as not to draw attention."

The door opened. In came Iris with her hand wrapped tensely around Paul's upper arm, almost as if she had dragged him there. Lance narrowed his eyes slightly, but said with some thinly-veiled antagonism, "So good of you two to join us."

"What have we missed?" Iris asked, approaching the table, brushing over Lance's brusque remark. "Do we have a plan?"

"A plan, yes," Adalet said, sounding far more polite than his former employer. "An adequate one? Potentially, no."

"Not adequate?" Paul questioned. He kept his eyes locked on Adalet—or Lance—or Iris—or whoever the speaker was, so long as it wasn't his own father, who was the only one who might have noticed. Surge glanced behind him and saw N staring out a window again, so he leaned closer to Iris and Paul and spoke quietly.

"We're working as well as we can with the details N has given us," he said, "but to be honest, we still don't have a clear view of what his... castle... looks like on the inside. When we did this last time, we had an entire blueprint of the Team Rocket Hoenn base to go off on."

"Castle?" Iris inquired.

"That's what he calls it," Surge clarified.

"The last time _we_ did this, we went on the hearsay of another person," Paul pointed out, flicking his head toward Silver.

"The Team Rocket Sinnoh Base, right," Lance acknowledged, "and how well did that operation go for you kids?" Cynthia shot Lance a look, then turned her eyes toward Wallace, who, being the other Champion, had potentially more sway on Iris and Paul than anyone else—especially Lance, whose underpinnings of aggression clearly weren't getting anywhere.

Wallace received her signal, and sighed before admitting, "This feels very risky to me. Our informant is unreliable, at best. We could be putting people in danger if we pursue this."

"We expected danger," Iris reminded him.

"The nature of these types of missions will always invite danger, true," Steven jumped in next. "but recklessness compounds that danger. We may be moving too fast; we didn't have much time to prepare for this."

"We don't have much more time to give," Paul growled in an obvious reference to Gary.

"I realize that," Steven said calmly. "I think we need a compromise on our approach."

"What's your suggestion?" Iris asked. Steven then looked to Adalet, who stepped forward with his proposal.

"We're sending in two undercover operatives to scout the situation, yes?" he started. "Our main purpose here is to extract information from Team Plasma, but there's uncertainty whether the information we need exists at all. If it doesn't, we need to abort."

Silver—who'd been silent for the entire meeting—suddenly came alive with an ill-hidden, incredulous indignation. "What?" he demanded. "But all those people came here for a battle." He pointed down, meaning all the gym leaders and other trainers on the floor below him.

"This doesn't concern you, Silver," Lance warned.

"They're torturing Pokémon in there, and they'll continue to do so." Silver dove straight into an emotional appeal. "You're going to let them get away with that? With everything that's happened—Iris?" He set his gaze on her, and she drew back with a breath; he knew his target.

"Silver—" Ash tugged on his arm, urging him to stand down.

"It's her decision," Silver insisted, though Iris only looked more overwhelmed. "This is her turf."

"But this is an interregional operation," Lance finally cut in, having had enough. "This concerns more than Unova now."

"Stop it—stop arguing," Iris said suddenly, sharply. They did stop, and Iris sucked in her breath again, thinking. Then, she asked, more evenly, "Where's Leaf?"

"I'm here in her stead," Misty said.

"Where is she, though?" Iris pressed.

"I'm not sure," Misty admitted. "She said she'd be back before takeoff." Iris appeared more stressed than before, and Misty wetted her lips. Although she was hesitant, feeling it wasn't entirely her place to say so, she eventually appended, "She wouldn't condone putting more people at risk."

Iris folded.

"You're right," she agreed tactily. "We do it Adalet's way." The diffidence in her voice told it was a decision she was loathe to turn over to him; she had wanted this, though—originally, at least. She had wanted someone like Adalet making these decisions from the beginning, not her. Paul was clearly chagrined with Iris's choice, but he said nothing, indicating he—like her—ultimately knew it was for the better.

"Then that's the final word," Lance declared, briefly flicking his gaze toward Silver; although the former Champion remained expressionless, there was an undercurrent of boastfulness in his voice. "We'll present our plan to the others now."

Silver glared before storming out. The door was already half-opened, and there was no dramatic slamming of it shut, so the scene went unnoticed by most; yet, Ash watched and stood frozen for a moment before doing a double-take between N—his mind clearly elsewhere—and where Silver had gone. Misty caught his gaze and nodded to him, a silent OK that he should go and she could keep an eye on N, and Ash took off after Silver.

"Silver!" he called after him, seeing him up the hallway, in the still-open elevator. Silver remained motionless, however, refusing to hold the door. Pikachu leapt off Ash's shoulder and bolted ahead, believing he had a better shot of catching the door. Just as he was about to make it to the entrance, however, the doors closed and Pikachu slammed face-first into them. Ash was a few paces behind, and he swept up his partner, who was clutching his swelling nose with his yellow paws, into his arms.

They waited for the elevator to come back up, giving a chance for Pikachu to recover. Once back on the first floor, Ash thrust himself into the crowd, glancing around wildly for his brother—but to no avail. He did, however, see Butch and Cassidy not too far off, and he called out to them:

"Did you see Silver?" he asked.

"Who?" Cassidy asked disinterestedly, and Ash remembered the issue of names.

"Kamon," he clarified.

"Oh... Yeah, he went by here looking all mad," Cassidy answered. "What's going on?"

"He's just upset because some plans are fallin' through," Ash said quickly, thoughtlessly, now standing on the tips of his toes, trying to look over the crowd and catch of glimpse of scarlet.

"Wait..." Cassidy suddenly looked more alive, more cautious. "What plans?"

"We're still fighting today, aren't we?" Butch interjected, too. "C'mon, we gotta have this." They were speaking loudly, and it drew the other attention of other trainers nearby.

"Weren't not going through with the operation?" Jasmine, the Olivine City Gym Leader, inquired, remaining polite though sore at the idea. There were some other murmurs matching a similar attitude. Ash's eyes widened as he looked back at the small throng of alerted trainers, realizing his own mistake.

"Unbelievable," Cassidy spat. "Where are Jessie and James? They'll—."

"Agh, N-No!" Ash cut him off, waving his hands. "It's not like that. Um..." He glanced anxiously at the ceiling, wondering when the Champions were coming down, and hoping it would be soon. "The others are gonna explain it, don't worry!" Ash scurried off with that, heading deeper into the crowd. A short distance away, he saw Silver leave the gym.

* * *

The meeting had dispersed, and they were mere minutes away from heading downstairs and revealing their less-than-dramatic plans for the day. Iris had found Cilan again, and she was speaking with him quietly, with visible disappointment in her expression. He was listening attentively, nodding understanding at all the appropriate times. Paul kept his distance, stiffly watching them from afar, and waiting for the inevitable—which now stood behind him.

"She's unsatisfied," Paul remarked, noting the arrival.

Brandon flicked his eyes down toward his son and said, "And you aren't?"

"I'm trying to trust Adalet's judgement," Paul corrected flatly. "Iris and I are too emotionally invested. Of course we wish it could be different. It does feel wasteful that all these people came, and for nothing. I'm sure Iris is embarrassed."

"You don't know if it's for nothing yet," Brandon reminded him. "You know the plan: Should your undercovers confirm Plasma has treatment information, then we will proceed as usual."

"They will find nothing."

Brandon raised an eyebrow. "How are you so sure?" he asked. Paul sighed and turned toward Brandon, speaking directly to him for the first time in that conversation.

"Look, I didn't talk to Anthea and Concordia myself, so I can't be sure," he began frankly, "but Iris did, and I think while she wants to be hopeful, she knows. For Iris, this was primarily an act of vengeance, for her region, and for Leaf and Gary. She'll say otherwise, but that's the truth."

"If that's why you think, then why do you support doing anything at all?" Brandon folded his arms. Paul pursed his lips, annoyed by the question.

"Action is better than inaction," he mumbled as an answer. Brandon narrowed his eyes, scanning over his son carefully. Paul knew what was coming, and he drove his eyes away.

"Are you okay?" Brandon asked.

"That's a stupid question," Paul dismissed.

"You're not yourself," Brandon said, a little more gently than usual. "I heard—"

"—Don't bring it up," Paul cut him off before he could go any further. He didn't know what Brandon intended to bring up—maybe Reggie had said something, or maybe Brandon had simply seen the tabloid article detailing, albeit in an exaggerated fashion, his downward spiral—but Paul didn't care either way. He didn't want to talk about it.

"I know you've been avoiding me, and I understand why," Brandon pressed on anyway, and Paul started to move forward, but Brandon followed. "You're vulnerable. You feel like you have to prove yourself, just as much as Iris does."

Paul had heard quite enough, and he whipped around on his heel. "Don't talk about this as if you know what's happening," Paul snarled. "I'm not doing this because I'm looking to negate the account of some trash publication. I'm doing this because I'm angry. A friend is dying in the hospital, and if there's even the slightest chance of saving him, I'm going to take it."

Paul realized this contradicted what he said earlier—too late. Brandon raised his brow, again.

"Well, either you still have hope, too," he said, "or I'm right."

* * *

Gary was feeling particularly feverish now. It was one of those warmer summer days, and the open windows had invited in that extra heat which made his head spin and vision go blurry. He was too weak to get up and close the window himself, though, and he refused to call for his nurse (any time she came, they would become submerged in a battle of what medicines he should or shouldn't be taking, and Gary didn't want to deal with that added headache). So, he was trying to distract himself in his grandfather's book; he'd referenced it many times throughout his studies both as an undergrad and a grad but had never read straight through it, and he figured he ought to now with the hope it might spark some kind of inspiration in his disease-addled brain.

He had just started Chapter 12—"The Role of Pokémon Happiness and Human Relationships in Evolution"—when, realizing, in his delirium, he hadn't actually processed anything in Chapter 11—"Pokémon Reactions To Positive Human Experiences"—and he, frustrated, flipped back a dozen pages to begin reading again. This venture had been several days in the making, and it was a tiring one, but he hadn't pulled his bookmark yet.

"It figures you'd still be working."

Gary shut the textbook.

"Shouldn't you be at the gym?" he asked, before looking up at the person standing in the doorway: Leaf. There was a slight break in her face upon seeing his eyes—now an unhealthy rather than a barely perceptible lavender—but she quickly recovered and straightened herself up, standing stiffly once again.

"I decided I wanted to see you," she informed him. Gary had nothing to say to this, but he pressed his lips into a straight, careful not to let them curve into a frown, careful not to let the pain show in his expression. It did, though, and Leaf drew in a quicky, shaky breath. "I'm still mad at you," she clarified. "but I thought I ought to come, just in case something happens—to either of us."

Gary waved a dismissive hand.

"You guys will bag this. This isn't Sinnoh. You've got a lot more manpower than when we were kids," he reminded her. Leaf didn't react to his half-hearted reassurance. Instead, she sat at his bedside, glancing over the papers and books he had dispersed about the room. She picked his closed copy of _The Symbiosis Between Pokémon and Humans_, looked at it with some strange measure of distrust, and tossed it onto the table.

"You should be resting," she said, almost as if she were chastising him.

"Right, yeah." Gary was definitely unamused. It would be a pain—literally—to retrieve it once she left. "'Cause you've got a new set of people to take care of everything."

Leaf immediately seized up with horror.

"Arceus, who told you?" Now she sounded exasperated, angry even, as she lolled her head back.

"So it is supposed to be a secret then?" Gary raised an eyebrow. "Well, it's not a very well-kept one. I told Brock there were a few things I wanted so I could keep studying, and who else but Bianca brought them to me?"

"They're not replacements," Leaf insisted. "I didn't want you to know because I didn't want you to feel like they were."

"I don't think I'm the one taking it personally," Gary said coolly—and he wasn't. He understood, even if the implications left a sour taste. He then added, "I'm gonna be fine, Leaf."

"Yeah," she said, clearly not believing him. Her hands were folded on her lap, and Gary hesitated before reaching out to touch her knuckles. She responded to that, lacing her fingers through his. It was as he suspected: She wasn't mad, not exactly. She was trying to cope, trying to brace herself for the worst. Maybe she had thought being furious with him would make it easier to pull away, to say goodbye, and maybe she had reconsidered that she would regret ending it on that note.

That was his theory, anyway, but Gary had the sense he was right. He knew her well.

There was a knock at the door. Silver appeared, looking both frazzled and incensed.

"Leaf," he started. "You—"

"I know, I know." Leaf slid her hand away from Gary's and rose to her feet. "I've been receiving Paul's texts all morning. They just finished the debriefing, so they'll be boarding soon, and I need to go."

"That's not..." Silver began again, but she was already on her way, out the door at a hurried pace. Gary leaned back into his pillow and sighed before gazing ruefully at his grandfather's book on the table. Silver glanced at the ailing man cautiously before approaching, taking up the chair Leaf had left.

"Why did you do it?" he asked.

"Do what?" Gary mumbled.

"Lie to her." Silver flicked his head in the direction of where Leaf had gone. Gary was silent for a moment, thinking over his answer.

"Leaf had to think I was fine," he finally replied. "Otherwise, she would shut down."

"Kind of like how she's doing now?" Silver said, almost wryly. Gary let out a short, bitter laugh at that.

"She doesn't think I'm going to be fine," he said.

"So what happens after?" Silver pressed, remaining unfazed by—almost apathetic to—the growing melancholia of the conversation. Gary shrugged.

"She carries on," he answered simply. "That's what she does."

Ash called for Silver's name before appearing in the door, too. He stood there with a heaving chest, trying to catch his breath, before lifting his eyes toward Gary and swallowing. His friend looked worse now than he had yesterday, and the day before that. Gary flicked his eyes down, but Silver kept his gaze locked on him for a moment longer before rising to his feet, too, before retrieving the book Leaf had tossed and handing it back to Gary.

_**July 20th, 2009. Late Morning. Somewhere in Unova.**_

"You're seeing things," an older male—a member of Team Plasma, as evidenced by his uniform—dismissed, his brown hair whipping in the air in the moving open-top car. One hand was supporting a lazy chin, the other was on the wheel; he was tired, and his younger companion's ravings weren't doing anything to help.

"No, I swear!" his partner insisted. "It had to be Zekrom; he was in the distance, in the sky."

"Well, it'll be a great story to tell your kids someday, if you can ever manage to get yourself a girlfriend." The older one smirked, and the other glowered at him.

"Shut up," he grumbled. The car moved out of the trees, into a dusty clearing. Up ahead, the driver could see two other grunts standing at an old, rusting elevator next to an abandoned, white-brick building. They appeared to be agonizing over an inability to get in. The car pulled up alongside them, and the driver poked his head outside to speak with them.

"Need some help?" he offered.

"Yes, please!" One of the grunts—a woman—eagerly nodded. She then sheepishly admitted, "I-I lost my key while we were out." She gestured to her partner, a steely-eyed blond, who looked annoyed, probably from the misplacement of the item.

"Well, let me give you a hand." The driver grinned at her—she was definitely beautiful, with bright blue eyes and light brown hair that looked soft to the touch—before putting the car into park and sliding outside the door. He then turned to his partner, saying, "Wyatt, take the car, I'm heading down with these guys."

"_What?_" Wyatt said incredulously. "But, Josiah—"

"Go on, go on," Josiah dismissed, and Wyatt grumbled to himself before unbuckling his seatbelt and sliding into the driver's seat. Wyatt shifted the gear and drove off in a huff, kicking up some dust and gravel on his way out. Once he was gone, Josiah turned toward the elevator door, pulled out his ID, and swiped it through the reader, which was the only even remotely modern element of the aging and almost dangerous-looking elevator. The reader blinked green, and the elevator doors slid open. The three Plasmas stepped inside, and their descent began.

First, they were submerged in darkness. Then, they were plunged into an expansive, red-rock cavern. Large yellow lights lit their stunning view: For, right in front of them, was a mansion—more of a castle, really—at least six stories high with hundreds of darkened windows, and it took up the length of the entire cavern. It was nothing short of an architectural masterpiece, especially given the location, and the female grunt's breath caught.

"It's underground..." she marvelled aloud, and Josiah perked up.

"Are you new recruits?" he asked. "It's an amazing sight, isn't it? It used to be an old mine. You get used to the view with time, though." There was a spiral moving up the side of the cavern, circling behind the castle, and moving up it was a jeep's like the one Wyatt and Josiah had been driving.

"I-I'm new," the female grunt said, but then she pointed to her companion, adding, "He's been around for a while, though."

"Really?" Josiah raised his brow before glancing at the other man. "Haven't seen your face before." He was a younger guy for sure, no older than 25, and that was a generous estimate.

"I've mainly been working in Nimbasa City," the partner said, arms folded.

"You mean at the SAMPLe office?" Josiah asked.

"That's not information I'm at liberty to discuss," the partner said a little sharply, and Josiah quickly backed down. He was clearly in a bad mood.

"Right," Josiah mumbled. "Sorry, sir." The elevator reached the bottom. They stepped outside and moved up a stony, fenced-in pathway leading up to the castle entrance. They remained silent for a little while, mainly because the female grunt was too busy appreciating the details of their arrival, and her partner just looked like a ticking time bomb—one Josiah didn't want to set off. Eventually, though, Josiah cleared his throat and asked, "So, I'm guessing you were a part of the search party?"

"Yes." The female grunt snapped her head back toward him and nodded. "We just came back."

"Obviously," her partner added with a grumble, and by then, Josiah was wondering how such a pretty young recruit got stuck with a sourpuss like him.

"It surprises me someone with someone as high a rank as you would be doing such low-level work," Josiah remarked.

"N and his sisters are of the utmost importance," the partner said plainly, though seriously.

"Damn, Concordia and Anthea are gone, too?" Josiah shook his head. "I thought the kid had just wandered off again..."

They climbed the stairs up to the main doors, and the partner took the lead, pushing them open. The interior of the castle was far different from the ancient-looking exterior: It was clean, white, with a lavish, navy blue velvet rug running down the hallways, up the stairs... curtains of the same fabric with a gold-embroidered hem hung from the windows, from which poured in a white, natural-looking light. An elaborate chandelier hung above them.

The partner turned to the two grunts behind him.

"I have to go speak with Colress," he declared.

"Whoa, yeah, uh..." Josiah blinked. It was a big deal to talk to Colress—or, rather, he must have been a big deal to even be allowed to talk to Colress. "It was nice speaking to you, sir." Ther partner nodded and turned, heading up the hallway alone.

There were dozens of doors and other hallway paths that he passed; it was quite easy to get lost in such a place if you didn't know it. He scratched at his ear, but kept his gaze forward, never pausing for a moment. Eventually, he was met with another set of double doors, and it was only here that he paused, taking a moment to prepare himself. Already, he could hear the grisly howls and cries of other Pokémon beyond wooden panes.

He pushed open the doors and walked in.

There was handful, or maybe two handfuls, of scientists bustling about the area, a ballroom that had been repurposed into a makeshift lab. He passed by rows upon rows of caged, sick Pokémon, shaking, growling, foaming, reaching out at him with claws or paws or blades. Some were balding; some had skin that sagged so deeply it was as if it were melting. All, however, had the distinctive purple scleras he had grown so used to seeing.

Still, it never failed to shake him.

Colress was a distance away, circling a Lileep, perhaps the _only _healthy Pokémon there, which the arriving member noted with a growing pit in his stomach.

"Colress, sir," he started upon reaching the esteemed scientist. Colress glanced his way; although he wouldn't have been able to tell, the underling's demeanor had changed, from aloof to disturbed, maybe even nervous. "Ghetsis is asking for an update on your progress."

"Progress is fine," Colress dismissed, turning around again. This wasn't a satisfactory answer in any shape.

"He'd..." The Plasma hesitated. "... like a detailed report."

"A report?" Colress faced him again, now clearly annoyed. "If I have to spend time writing a report, then there will be less progress made."

"Perhaps there are some files I can bring back to him?"

Colress looked at him disbelievingly before letting out a short growl. "Who are you again?" he asked.

"My name is Jamie," the Plasma answered.

"Well, Jamie, tell Ghetsis if he's so terribly anxious for an update on our progress, invite him to come down here and take a look himself," Colress said curtly before gesturing toward the length of the room, at all the Pokémon. "There's our progress." Colress then slid his hands into the pockets of his coat and moved brusquely away, sending a clear signal that he wanted the conversation over—and it was. There was nothing further Jamie could have said.

"Don't let him get to you." Another scientist, one with balding pink hair and a tag that read _Dr. Namba_, suddenly spoke up, drawing in Jamie's attention. "He's stressed out. Sudden pressure from Ghetsis won't help, though I'm sure he's agitated because his son is missing again... add that to our stasis, and you can see why both might lash out at each other—and their employees."

Jamie licked his lips and nodded. Dr. Namba returned to his work, tending to an ailing Deerling. There really wasn't another healthy Pokémon in sight.

* * *

"You'll have to excuse me—I never caught your name," Josiah said, still chatting up the female grunt he'd met on his way back into the castle. However, she'd been noticeably distracted ever since her partner left, her attention turned particularly to the windows; even though she was pretty, she was a bit of an oddball. Not that Josiah minded too much. There were worse oddballs running around.

"Ah..." She blinked rapidly and looked back up at him, away from the windows, before smiling. "I'm Veronica."

"Veronica," he repeated the name; it certainly was beautiful, a fitting title. "Well, it's nice to meet you. I didn't properly introduce myself: I'm Josiah." He extended his hand, and she took it.

"It's nice to meet you, too, Josiah," she said.

"So how long you been a part of Team Plasma anyway?" he asked, dropping her hand again, though he had let his grasp linger for a second longer than usual.

"Just a couple weeks, actually," Veronica admitted. "It's been... an interesting experience so far." She was putting it nicely; Josiah could tell, and he could sympathize. It took some time and adjustment to get into the groove with Team Plasma's traditions, another nice word for it.

"Oh yeah." Josiah nodded. "With all that SAMPLe business, I can tell there's something big in the works."

"Really?" Veronica raised an eyebrow.

"Mhm," Josiah hummed. "I got to admit, though, it's a little nerve-wracking. What I mentioned to your buddy back there—"

"—Jamie," Veronica clarified for him.

"—Right, Jamie—about the SAMPLe office? It was shut down recently, and all related operations were brought here," Josiah explained. "A _lot _of folks aren't really allowed to know what's going on there, but most are saying it's because the G-Men got a little too close for comfort."

"Ah..." She seemed intrigued; it was the most interested she'd been in anything he'd had to say since they had first met, actually. So, of course, Josiah had to say more.

"It's been a little messy with them here, though," he went on. "Last month, there was an evacuation on the whole building because some Fire-type Pokémon they were experimenting with got a little out of hand. Everyone had to go up to the garage; it was a real pain in the ass."

That definitely got her attention. She watched him intently before lowering her eyes in apparent thought. Then, remembering she was still engaged in polite conversation, she asked, "So why did you join Team Plasma?"

"Me?" Josiah pointed to himself, and she nodded. "Well, that's a long story. I used to belong to Team Rocket, but the G-Men disbanded it like seven years ago. I was working in the Unova sector then, so I just ended up joining the Plasma train, like a lot of other people."

She turned her head slightly. "Team Plasma is... really different from Team Rocket though, isn't it?" she inquired.

"Not really." Josiah shrugged. "Not when you get down to the root of it. Yeah, there's a more cultish flavor that I don't care too much for—there are a _lot _of weirdos running around here, especially that N kid—but there's the same general fuck-the-government attitude, and the same endgame."

Veronica folded her hands together, apparently not knowing what to make of this information. She looked bothered, and Josiah misinterpreted her expression as offense at his use of language.

"Is everything okay?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine!" Veronica insisted suddenly. "I just remembered—I need to report to my supervisor about the search."

"Who's your supervisor?" Josiah asked. "Aldith?"

"Yeah, that's them." Veronica nodded.

"Mine too," Josiah said. "Let's head over there together."

She tensed up for a moment, then said, "No, wait—" She paused, struggling for the right words, the right name. "—It wasn't Aldith. It was—"

"—Oh, you mean Annie," Josiah answered for her, almost sounding disappointed.

"Yes, her."

"I didn't know Annie and Oakley were overseeing any searches," Josiah mused. "Well, I'll catch up with you later then, Veronica. And just know, if you have any questions, you can always come to me."

"Thanks, I will," Veronica assured him before slipping away. She traversed down one of the long hallways at a quick pace, but once feeling comforted she was alone, she strayed toward one of the windows. Now without Josiah there to watch, she pulled back the blue curtain to inspect what had her so consternated: They were underground. Why were there windows? Why was there light coming from them?

With the velvet drawn away, she found herself facing a daylit image of a forest. She might have initially believed it was just a stagnant photo—but then a Pidove flew past her view and landed in one of the trees, singing its song to a group of newly hatched chicks.

Her breath caught. It was a movie. It was a projection. It was all fake.

She stepped back. This wasn't why she came. Lifting her hand to her ear, she pressed her finger gently against an earpiece hidden beneath her hair and said, "This is May to Battle Pyramid. Leaf, Paul, Iris—anyone—I need to talk to you."

* * *

The Battle Pyramid Command Center came alive the moment May spoke directly to them. What had been diligent, purposeful listening with occasional quiet comments made here and there suddenly burst into a feverish chatter as questions of whether something had been found arouse. Though only a select group was allowed to listen to any reception received, there was still enough people invested there for the leadership to lose control of the room.

Lance hushed the company; Leaf, Paul, and Iris all found their way to the communication table, but it was Leaf who bent the microphone near to her lips and pressed the ear of a large headphone to her temple.

"May, this is Leaf," she said, and she resisted the temptation to elbow away Drew, who was hovering nearby and trying to listen in. "What's going on in there?"

"_The castle—it's inside the mine,_" she said, still sounding a little awed at the concept. "_Trip and I are underground now, but we went our separate ways._"

"We know," Paul spoke up next. "He's been trying to extract information from Colress."

"_Did he do it?_"

"As far as we can tell, no," Paul answered.

Silence followed. May was thinking. Then, she declared, "I'm looking for a fire alarm to pull."

Drew managed to briefly wrest control of the microphone, asking, "A fire alarm, May?"

A brief pause, as if she were half-surprised to hear him. "_I talked to someone who told me about when they had to have a fire evacuation,_" she soon said, recovering. "_They all go to some parking garage, I think; it would be a good chance for Trip to get anything he needs inside, and it would be a good entry point for the rest of you._"

More silence followed as the group processed this new information. It wasn't exactly according to plan, and everyone realized that—with mixed reactions. On one end of the spectrum, Lance looked disgruntled by this divergence; on the other, Silver was intrigued by the opportunity. Iris was reading these faces, but it was Adalet's—full of thoughtful consideration—that ultimately swayed her.

"Okay, we'll tell Trip," she said, "and we'll send some people to find this garage and see if it's a good place for us to get in."

"We agreed not to enter unless there was information to extract," Surge reminded her.

"It's just checking it out," Cilan calmly stepped up in his wife's defense. Drew briefly flicked his gaze over to him, expressionless.

"Who do you want to send?" Cynthia inquired.

Iris hummed, thinking before she answered, "I think I'm going to find those old Team Rocket members. They've always been eager."

"Team Rocket?" Surge sounded a little doubtful. "Can you trust them?"

"Oh yeah." There wasn't a hint of hesitation to her voice, and with her casual averment, she turned to Ash and Misty and asked, "Can you two go find them?"

The pair exchanged a quick look before Ash confidently assured her, "You can count on us!", and they hurried off.

Leaf appeared relatively disaffected by the unfolding events; although her resolute, businesslike demeanor had returned in time for the mission, her depression hadn't left her. She pulled the microphone to her again and said, "Okay May, keep us updated."

"_I will,_" May promised, and the transmission ended.

* * *

"_Trip, are you in a place where you can talk to us?_"

It was the first transmission Trip had heard in a while—the last was when he was receiving directions to the ballroom, but the other end had gone silent afterward, presumably trying to listening in on his conversations—and he glanced about the makeshift lab, ensuring no one would raise an eyebrow if he slipped outside. Realizing no one was watching, he left the room and pressed a finger against his earpiece.

"This is Trip," he said, still speaking in a cautiously low voice. "I am now."

"_Have you been able to learn anything from Colress?_" It was Leaf on the side.

"No," Trip answered plainly. "He's very standoffish."

"_But you were able to get into the ballroom?_"

"Yeah..." He trailed off, then hesitated. "It doesn't look good." He didn't clarify exactly what he meant—if by "not good," he meant the condition of the Pokémon was poor, or if he meant their chances of extracting a treatment were slimming down. It was almost interchangeable, really.

Leaf noted the void, and she asked, "_Do you think there's anything you can bring back to us?_"

"I'm not sure." Trip wasn't willing to give a straight answer, and if it were under any other circumstance, Leaf would have called him out on it. Instead, however, she held her tongue, and Trip could tell she was thinking.

"_May's looking to pull a fire alarm,_" she eventually informed him, changing the subject. "_Everyone will exit to some garage. She's trying to open up a window for you._"

Trip blinked, then furrowed his eyebrows.

"To do what?" he asked. Then, as if by cue, a near-deafening bell suddenly went off, its screech echoing down the hallway. Trip cringed, then remarked dryly, though loudly so his contacts could hear him, "She found it."

"_We can hear it, too._" Leaf was noticeably speaking louder as well, and Trip winced; the device, after all, was embedded in his ear. "_Does Colress have an office you can go to?_"

"I wouldn't know that."

She hummed, then said, "_Hang on. I'm going to try to have Concordia give you directions._" The doors to the ballroom, of which Trip was still standing outside, were suddenly thrust open as a small parade of confused and exasperated scientists came out. Trip dropped his hand from his ear and jumped behind the acute space between the wall and door, so no one would see him—especially Colress, who was looking more irate than ever as he strode out behind his colleagues.

In the raucous commotion, it took Trip a while to hear the quiet mumble that was Concordia's voice. He could make out none of her words though, and despite his efforts to readjust his earpiece and hear her better, she remained incomprehensible.

"You're going to have to speak up," he eventually said. "I can barely hear you." He then heard some static and movement on the other end; Concordia's whispers died, and that was when Paul came in.

"_Trip, it's on the second floor,_" he said. "_Start by going up there._"

"Won't it be suspect if I'm going in the opposite direction as everyone else?" Trip wryly commented.

"_Just do your best._"

Trip shrugged it off and started off with a job; the staircase was near the entrance through which he and May had come, and it was several long passages away. When he reached the velvet steps, he found they were being overrun by confused and tired and annoyed Team Plasma grunts coming down and taking a left instead of heading out the main entrance. Trip figured that must have been where the fire exit was.

He hesitated before starting up the steps, pushing against the crowd, and to his surprise, no one stopped him or even cared. They must have done this enough to feel there was no real threat, so if he didn't follow the drill—well, they weren't the ones answering to their supervisor. The second floor was vacant, having already been emptied of all its tenets. He started walking down the length of room, his eyes passing over each door, realizing they all had a nameplate plastered to them, in alphabetical order no less.

Cleeves... Cobell... Coday... Colress...

"I'm up here," Trip finally informed his contact once he stood in front of the door. "I found it." He then reached for the doorknob and realized it was locked. "Say, Leaf, care to tell me how you always unlock those doors?"

There was a hum of conversation on the other end, which ended with Paul telling him, "_Just break it down._"

Trip didn't take any issue with that. He whipped out one of his Pokéballs and stood back.

"Conkeldurr!" he called out. "Smash the door open!" It was a practically effortless task for Conkeldurr. He set down one of his concrete pillars, heaved the second one up, and thrust it into the door like a battering ram. The door—a clean white wood—was taken off its hinges and broken into two jagged pieces. Trip thanks Conkeldurr before calling him back and stepping over the splintered mess. Once inside, he paused for a moment, taking in the scene.

"This is a bedroom," he said plainly.

"_Is it Colress's bedroom?_"

"I think so," Trip moved forward, toward a desk with various papers and other office tools scattered about the surface. "What am I looking for?"

"_Any files or reports or anything related to the Pokérus._" That was Adalet speaking.

"_Try seeing if there's anything related to an orre called Ciete._" That was Steven.

"I have a journal," Trip said, picking up an small, leather-bound book. He had already flipped through some pages and seen that there were near-daily entries from Colress—about three to one page. He started a little more than twenty pages and began to read, doing his best to block out the still-blaring alarm and focus:

_Log 5/18/09_

_No success in meeting with Iris. Made it to La Rousse safely. Annie and_  
_Oakley have already administered sample of virus to Chris. Will take_  
_note on his condition over next several entries. Made contact with former_  
_guardian to Chris's son. Remember to follow up if I don't hear back soon._

Too early, though it was unsettling to see Iris's name in print—as well as the obvious allusion to Drew. Trip skimmed through several more pages, all detailing Colress's stay with Chris Rogers, until he reached the following entry:

_Log 6/11/09_

_Chris passed today after administration of second sample. Cardiac arrest._  
_Virus definitely affects humans differently than Pokémon. Remind Annie_  
_to ensure cause of death is attributed to cancer. Chris changed will prior_  
_to passing. Funding source is secure._

This wasn't what he needed, despite Trip's morbid interest in what had now definitely been confirmed murder. He skipped into later June, trying to find more about the virus and the research conducted. That was when he stumbled upon this entry:

_Log 6/27/09_

_Negative results from meeting with Iris, Leaf, and Gary at SAMPLe office._  
_Pins in the feet were convincing, but I misspoke and alienated Iris. Will_  
_have to look for other options. Will have to find another funding source._  
_G-Men may find cure before we do if we're not quick._

Trip stared blankly at the page before slowly closing the journal.

"This is Trip to Battle Pyramid," he said flatly, pressing a finger against his earpiece once again. "I can confirm Team Plasma has no treatment."

_**July 20th, 2009. Afternoon. Opelucid City.**_

"Good afternoon, Mr. Oak!" Bianca sang as she bustled into Gary's room with a plastic take-out bin. Gary winced, feeling his head pound harder with her arrival. He was just finishing up Chapter 11, again, by then; this time, he had processed it slightly better, though he almost felt like he needed a third read for anything to stick. His blurry consciousness made it difficult for the synapses in his mind to connect one idea to another, much less one word to another. Nevertheless, he turned the page to begin Chapter 12.

"Ugh, Bianca can you not be so loud?" he complained. "And don't call me, Mr. Oak."

"Sorry," Bianca apologizes lightly as she plopped down on the chair at his bedside. A heart-shaped, multicolored pendant swung from her neck as she moved. Gary, in a sudden moment of clarity, recognized it was the Heart Scale her Luvdisc had produced a week earlier. He had just finished reading how Luvdisc mainly produced Heart Scales as a sign of love toward human companions; they were more rare in the wild.

"How are things at the Center?" Gary couldn't resist asking.

"Okay, I guess," Bianca said with a shrug. "I don't like being there, and the funny thing is, I haven't even seen the worst of it, at least according to your grandpa. The Pokémon are usually screaming and trying to break out of their cages, but I guess I'm just never around to see that half of it. Bill joked it's because I have this infectious optimism; they almost didn't want me to come here, because things seem better when I'm around." She let out a strange laugh, then laid one of the take-out bins on Gary's lap, atop the book that was already there. "I brought lunch. I thought you might be getting sick of the hospital food," she said.

"I am." Gary picked up the bin and stretched painfully to lay it on the table. He was sick of all food, actually.

Bianca noted how difficult the small task was Gary; he looked more exhausted upon its completion, to the point where he had to lay back into his pillow and recollect himself. She inclined her head toward him, asking, "Hey, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he mumbled in response, eyes still closed. Bianca was unconvinced.

"I'm gonna go grab a nurse for you," she decided, standing up. That brought Gary to life again.

"Don't bother," he told her. "They can't do anything for me. I've asked that they ease up on the morphine, so my head can stay clear."

Bianca could see he was perspirating, though, and she couldn't just let it be.

"Well, there's gotta be another option," she insisted. "I'll be back in a jiff." She disappeared, and Gary groaned, annoyed and ill. He looked down at his grandfather's book and began flipping through the twenty or so pages of the chapter, previewing its topics. That was when he stumbled upon a subheader titled "Mega Evolution," and it gave him pause. The section was quite small; the book was first published more than a decade earlier, and this edition was perhaps three years old. Very little was known of the practice back then, and it showed.

He began to read:

**MEGA EVOLUTION**

Mega Evolution is a transformation that only affects certain types of Pokémon. In Mega Evolution, if  
a trainer is holding a Key Stone and a Pokémon is holding an appropriate Mega Stone, they will und-  
ergo a temporary evolution that transforms the Pokémon's appearance, aggrandizes the Pokémon's  
power, and can even change their unique abilities. Thus far, there are only 25 known species capable  
of Mega Evolution (See Figure 8).

There is still much to be understood about Mega Evolution, its origins, and how it is triggered. Expe-  
rts believe Mega Evolution is not a new phenomena, but rather one that human beings are just now  
rediscovering. The unique aspect—the aspect which is most worth noting in the research of relation-  
ships between humans and Pokémon—is that there is evidence that a strong bond must exist betw-  
een the trainer and the Pokémon in order for Mega Evolution to occur.

Much of this evidence is anecdotal and more research is needed. Still, the evidence is such that em-  
erging producers of Mega and Key Stones have begun the practice of finishing their products with the  
gelatin of Heart Scales, which are often created by Luvdisc when a good relationships exists between  
them and a human companion (See Ch. 11 for more on Heart Scales).

The revelation came suddenly, powerfully—and his heart stopped. He felt lightheaded despite this new clarity, and he panted aloud the name, "Bianca!" He tried to stand, to get out of bed, but his knees were weak, and he collapsed on the floor, short of breath. "Bianca, come back!"

_**July 20th, 2009. Afternoon. Somewhere in Unova.**_

Colress hadn't followed the crowd. He'd gone upstairs, rather, and May had noticed this anomaly amongst the chaos she had caused, so of course she had to follow, stealthily, without the chance of being seen. They had ascended several floors, and it was amazing he hadn't noticed her following him at any point, though she supposed he was so angry—she could see it in his face—that all he _could _see was red.

Colress turned a corner, and May lingered behind in its shadow, watching where he would go. It was then that Colress was intercepted by a large, aging man, with long green hair—not as long as N's, but wavier and grayer and thinner—and red eyes, one of which was covered with an opaque, scarlet eyeglass. She couldn't be absolutely certain, but May was near-positive that was Ghetsis, N and his sisters' "father."

"Colress, what is the meaning of this?" Ghetsis angrily demanded, almost yelling because of the alarm. He had a metallic walking stalk, and he slammed its pointed tip down for emphasis, making a tear in the blue rug.

"Nothing." Colress shook his head. "Nothing we were doing set this off."

"What did then?"

"Perhaps someone had an accident in the kitchen—I don't know." Colress was visibly annoyed by this interview.

"I sent Annie and Oakley to the kitchen to investigate," Ghetsis said. "There was no accident."

"Practical joke, then," Colress dismissed. "There are good number of hooligans under this roof ever since—"

"_May._" May stiffened when she received the transmission, not expecting to hear another one for a while. "_When you're safe to do so, return to the Battle Pyramid. We're aborting the mission._" It was Adalet speaking, and May blinked, not sure she had heard right under the harsh sounds of the still-ringing alarm.

"Aborting—?" May started quietly, but she never finished. She was suddenly jerked back by two stronger, definitely female arms around her, one locked under her arms, and the other over her neck. She was dragged forward into the light of hallway, and both Colress and Ghetsis looked their way with wide eyes.

"I think I have your problem," May's captor, Oakley, growled. "You've got a rat." She ripped the earpiece out of May's canal, causing her to wince, and then dropped it to the floor, smashing it under her foot.

"A rat?" Ghetsis pricked up. May tried to gasp in air, feel short on it with Oakley's arm pressing into her neck, and struggled to get away.

"This is May Maple," Annie informed them. "She's the girlfriend of Andrew Hayden."

"The G-Men have infiltrated," Ghetsis realized with horror, jerking his head toward Colress. "We've been compromised."

"This fire alarm is a distraction, then," Colress mused before tensely asking, "Did you send a grunt named Jamie to speak with me?"

"I did not."

Oakley was briefly distracted in this conversation, and during that fleeting window, May raised her hands to Oakley's arm, digging her nails deep into the flesh before biting into it, too. Oakley yelped and let go of May, who promptly fell to the ground, spun from her knees, and pulled out one of her Pokéballs.

"Blaziken, go!"

* * *

"We've lost communication with May," Adalet suddenly announced. "Something happened to her earpiece." Panic swept over the communication hub; Drew was immediately at the table, his hands clutching the edge so hard his knuckles nearly turned white.

"What makes you say that?" he demanded.

"Just before the connection went bad, I could hear another voice saying she's your girlfriend," Adalet said, and Paul growled before shaking his head.

"I knew sending May in there was a bad idea," he half-lamented. "I should've sent Angela instead."

"Why did you then?" Drew turned his anger on him next, but Paul fielded it well.

"She insisted," he said flatly.

A pause. Surge took control

"Tell Trip to get out of there as soon as he can," he ordered Adalet before turning to Iris. "You need to call back those Rockets and assemble a rescue team. This has become an extraction."

"An extraction?" Iris blanched. "May set up a perfect opportunity for us all to go in and take these guys down."

"And now she's in danger, and we still have no idea just what we're up against," Lance harshly reprimanded.

"We'll never have another chance like this." Silver—as per his typical pattern that day—spoke up next. "Our cover was blown, and Team Plasma will move from here just like how they moved out of the SAMPLe office."

Iris looked as though she agreed, but before she could vocalize it, Leaf stepped in.

"We shouldn't put more lives at risk," she said detachedly, arms folded. Iris stared and clutched her hands together, as if she were holding her were words tightly within them. Then, she begrudgingly deferred.

"Fine," she gave in before turning on her heel and leaving. She was soon followed by others—most of the room, in fact. Silver, though, was fuming, and headed out in a different direction. Leaf returned to the communication table, where Adalet had just finished sending Trip a message. Drew had disappeared. Leaf sat next to an open seat near Adalet, sinking into it. Ash had lingered behind, watching her.

"Leaf, are you okay?" he asked her.

"Yeah, Ash, I'm just peachy," she said snapped. Adalet snatched up a bag of his and headed in the direction Iris had left. Ash took his seat. He struggled to find words, not just the right words, but any words. Nothing came.

"I'm gonna offer to be a part of the extraction team," he eventually decided, standing up.

"Don't," Leaf said, just as snappily as before. Her eyes had remained averted the entire conversation, and that didn't change now. Ash looked at her with confusion.

"Why not?" he asked.

A pause.

"You're too important."

Ash didn't know what to make of this. Misty returned, saying, "We sent out Elesa and Skyla to find Jessie, James, Butch, and Cassidy. I already told Iris and Paul. They're starting to pull together others to get May out of there. I know Drew's going in."

Leaf had no response to this, however. She merely rose to her feet and mumbled, "Watch for any transmissions from Trip," before leaving. Ash and Misty exchanged an uneasy glance before Misty nodded to him, and he ran after her.

"Leaf!" Ash had formed the name on his lips, but it was not his own voice that had made the call. He stopped and saw Silver coming up the hall at a hurried pace, looking uncharacteristically pale—paler than usual, at least.

Leaf stopped, with Ash stopping behind her.

"What do you want?" she asked, sounding nearly devoid of emotion.

"I need—to tell you something," Silver said breathlessly. "I tried to call Gary to tell him about what happened."

"What?" Leaf's face twisted, showing greater life at the mention of Gary. "Why?"

"When we were at the hospital, he asked me to keep him updated," Silver went on, to which Ash blinked and looked estranged, uncomfortable even. "When I called just now, that girl—Bianca—picked up. She was inconsolable; I could hardly make out what she was saying, but..." He trailed off, and Leaf's breath stopped. Her eyes were wide, guarded, though terrified.

"You're not telling me—" she began, her voice shaking. Silver couldn't say anything; he merely pursed her lips and looked down. Leaf's breath started again, but it was short, nearing hyperventilation. Large, hot tears welled in her eyes and she clutched her hand into a fist before slamming into the wall, screaming, "No!" Her knees started to buckle, and she was sliding toward the ground now, her tears dampening her shirt and lap.

Ash could only stare at her, shaking, processing. Pikachu was frozen on his shoulder.

"Leaf!" It was Paul's voice; two pairs of feet were heading up the hallway, having heard her scream. Iris and Paul soon both arrived, finding her crumpled on the ground, and he asked, "Leaf, what happened?"

Leaf didn't respond. She couldn't respond, and she pressed a hand to her face. Iris looked at Ash and Silver, but received no answer from either, and she assumed this was rooted in the same disappointment they all shared—except hers had bubbled and exploded.

"I—I've got a few people who've agreed to do the extraction," Iris offered.

"No." Leaf spoke for the first time, catching her companions by surprise. She pushed her hand—bruised from slamming it into the wall—off her support and stood again, shakily. She looked directly at her fellow Champion, a blue fire burning and steaming away the tears in her eyes before she said, "No, this is not an extraction."

"What?" Paul drew back, caught off guard by this sudden change.

"We do it your way, Iris," Leaf continued firmly. "May set up the opportunity. We're going to take it. Are you both with me?" Iris and Paul stared, not knowing what to say, how to react. Impatient, now more than ever, Leaf repeated, "I asked, are you with me?"

Iris blinked, but her gaze quickly grew focused with determination.

"I'm with you," she said, and with that, Paul nodded.

"I am, too."

.

.

.


	29. XXVIII: In Which Iris Rises

.

.

.

Chapter XXVIII: In Which Iris Rises

.

.

_**July 20th, 2009. Afternoon. Somewhere in Unova.**_

Twenty minutes following their departure from the Battle Pyramid, Elesa and Skyla emerged the thickest of the foliage and found themselves amid a clearing overrun by wildflowers and weeds. They were on a mission: Yet, a jagged pattern of gray stones rising from the ground was enough to give Elesa pause, and she dismounted from her Zebstrika to investigate. Skyla blinked and followed suit. She paced a few steps behind her fellow gym leader, casting her gaze left and right at the rows of unshapely stones.

"What is this place?" Skyla finally asked aloud, stopping behind Elesa. "Some kind of graveyard?"

Elesa remained silent for a moment longer, considering her response. "Not well maintained, but I believe so," she finally decided before approaching one of the grab slabs and crouching down to observe it. She reached out toward it with a single hand, gingerly trailing her fingers over the surface. "These headstones don't have any kind of words engraved in them, though. Just amateur carvings."

Skyla pricked up and turned her head back toward the dozens of headstones she'd passed. She hadn't noticed it the first, but each headstone was indeed marked by nothing but a shallow, child-like drawing. Skyla approached one such marking and leaned down to get a closer look. Her eyes widened then as she said, "This one resembles a Sandile." She glanced to her left. "And that—that one looks like a Herdier."

Elesa nodded, apparently unsurprised to hear this. "This is a Pokémon graveyard," she concluded. They said nothing further on the matter; their expressions in the glance they shared following Elesa's declaration was enough. Elesa appeared more contemplative, but Skyla was visibly unsettled. A graveyard for Pokémon was not unusual, but the strange fashioning of this one drew questions of their adversary's true nature to the forefront of their mind.

The eerie silence was broken by the sound of wings above them. Skyla looked upward and saw her Unfezant circling overhead. She extended an arm toward him, inviting him to land. "Did you find it?" Skyla asked once he perched himself. Unfezant cooed affirmatively and took flight once more. Elesa mounted her Zebstrika again and pulled Skyla up with her before they followed his lead.

Unfezant piloted them to the edge of a cliff before he stopped and landed on Skyla's shoulder. Below them stood a dilapidated, unsteady bridge that crossed over a shallow, dried waterbed and led to several rusting, abandoned buildings amid some yellowing brush and patches of red, dusty earth. The bridge connected to an unpaved roadway that wound around a cliffside opposite to the one they stood. Despite the derelict conditions of the area however, it was obvious this road was more recently used—and perhaps used quite often.

"That's the abandoned mine," Elesa realized. "We must be standing above the hideout."

"Then those Rockets can't be far from here," Skyla added. "So now we've just got to find this 'parking garage' and bring them back..." The two-way attached to Elesa's waist suddenly came to life with feedback; someone was trying to get into contact with them.

"This is Elesa to Battle Pyramid," Elesa said, swiftly picking up the radio. "Can you repeat that? We couldn't hear you."

More feedback—then, Lance's voice, distorted and fuzzy, but still comprehensible: "_This is Lance to Elesa and Skyla. There's been a change in the mission plan._"

* * *

The Rocket clan found the entrance to the alleged parking garage about 400 yards off the abandoned mine. Following the path marked by the tread of car tires, they were led to the red face of a cliff, where the tread abruptly ended—which, of course, inspired some confusion.

"Looks like a dead end," Butch breathed in frustration, staring at the tracks and then up at the wall. He stood mere inches away from the cliff face, right where the path ended, so close in fact that the tip of his nose was nearly touching the red rock.

"You dingus," Cassidy snarled. "There's obviously some kind of hidden entrance here! This wall is very suspicious."

"I just see a wall," Butch shot back, whipping his head toward her. Jessie sighed and folded her arms.

"Butch, take _two _steps back and look up again," she ordered. Butch glowered at her before doing as he was told: He backed up and tilted his head up again. Then, his eyes widened and his mouth formed a large, round "O" shape. There was a distinct rectangular box built into the face, a definite entrance.

"Oh..."

"So now the question is, how do we get in?" James asked. "Does anyone have a Voltorb or Electrode on hand?"

"Oh, yeh, like dat wouldn't draw any attention," Meowth scoffed.

"Maybe it opens like an automatic garage door, and all you need is the remote," Jessie suggested.

"Your ass has been living in suburbia for too long," Cassidy sneered dismissively.

"At least my ass hasn't been in jail for seven years," Jessie threw back with equal vitriol.

"Ey, be quiet, both of you," Meowth snapped at them. "I'm tryin' to think." The Pokémon then ritualistically pressed his paw to his chin, rubbing it, humming as he did. After a moment's pause, he continued, "It wouldn't be good to try to force our way in now anyway—dat might alert someone we're here, and we don't want dat."

"The base wants to know how many of these Plasma losers we're up against though," Cassidy reminded. "We can't go back until we have a number."

"Maybe we ought until someone comes out, and then that's our chance to go in," James suggested. "If the Champ Squad wants to break down the door later, then let them, but Meowth's right: We can't take the risk now."

"How long are we gonna have to wait though until someone comes out, though? By then, maybe they'll have all figured out the fire alarm was a ruse and will be heading back in," Butch pointed out. Jessie frowned and rolled her eyes as this conversation occurred; eventually, she pulled her purse off her shoulder—she didn't trust any of the goodies back at the base to hold onto it—and started digging through it.

"Well, do you have a better suggestion?" Meowth retorted.

"I do," Jessie cut in as she pulled a small remote out of her purse and pressed the green "open" button. There was a rumble, and the party stumbled back as the heavy stone door began to rise. Her companions stared at the door and then at her, to which she smirked and, holding up the remote as a taunt, said, "It's universal."

* * *

The halls were empty—for now, at least.

Trip had tucked Colress's journal under his arm and was moving quickly, stealthily through the castle, though not toward where he was ordered to go. The last contact he had received from the Battle Pyramid was Adalet instructing him to, in plain terms, get out. May had been compromised; Team Plasma knew they were there, and they would be looking for him next.

At the time, Trip had been digging further into the journal, and it had been difficult to tear himself away from the short, occasionally enigmatic entries. He had learned much from the record, and he expected his superiors would be interested in what it had to say too, but that would have to wait. He was supposed to be heading down to the first floor again to make his escape, but he had done the opposite, climbing an additional two floors in a madcap search. It was a definite mistake telling him May was in trouble: There was no way he would leave with that knowledge.

He stopped at a corner and carefully peered around the edge. There were no people, but there was a _scene_. Trip sucked in his breath, his chest tightening, before he stepped out to survey the area. A couple sets of curtains had been torn down and half-burned to ashes; the long velvet rug had a long cut sliced straight up the middle; a potted plant had toppled over. There undoubtedly had been an altercation there, and the burn marks indicated May and her Blaziken were a part of it.

"_This is Battle Pyramid to Trip. Are you in a place where you can speak?_" It was Lance.

Trip didn't respond at first. He stared vacantly at the violent display before him, still processing it inside his mind. It occurred to him Lance was probably contacting him to inquire where he was and why he wasn't on his way back yet, but returning himself had fallen even lower on his priority list. Finally, Trip pressed a finger to his earpiece and said, "I am."

"_Are you still in the castle?_"

"Yes." Trip saw no sense in denying it, but it was the following words that caught him off guard.

"_Good. Stay there,_" Lance ordered, causing Trip's brow to shoot up. "_Your Champions had a change of heart. We're taking Team Plasma head-on. There's still a rescue team heading in after May, and right now, we have people out assessing our enemy's size at the parking garage. But you're our only eyes and ears in there right now, and we'd like to keep that advantage._"

"You don't have to ask me twice," Trip replied.

"_Just don't get caught in any crossfires,_" Lance strictly advised. "_I'd rather we not prepare two rescues._"

Trip glanced at his anarchic backdrop once more. "I'll do my best," he said.

"_Do you know where the team might find her?_" Lance went on. "_There are ten people going in, plus N's sisters, and they can split into two groups of six to cover more ground if you could give us an idea where to start._"

"I've been moving up the floors, and I haven't found her," Trip finally admitted. He knew it would annoy Lance to figure out Trip actually never intended to leave the castle despite the evacuation order he was given, even if it was ultimately to their benefit. Trip appended, "I did find where she was attacked, but she's nowhere in sight."

Lance was silent for a moment, possibly thinking, possibly seething, possibly engaged in some other unpleasant emotion that couldn't affect Trip through a wireless earpiece. Regardless, Trip waited until the sound of _something_ down the hallway caused him to whip his head around. Nothing was there, but Trip knew he had not made it up in his mind and, therefore, knew he was no longer alone.

"_You haven't checked the ground level, though?_" Lance finally asked.

Trip didn't respond. He breathing grew shallow, and he moved up the hall slowly, carefully. Again, he heard something around the corner, and that was when he jumped to see if he could catch it. All he did catch was the end of a striped pink tail from the other end of the hallway, but the sight was enough: The pieces came together in his mind, and horror fell across his face.

"_Trip, the ground level?_" Lance repeated impatiently.

"She went looking for me," Trip whispered in disbelief.

"_What?_" Lance sounded both irate and confused.

"Lance, there's something you and the others need to know." Trip said this all quickly, but seriously. "The first fire 'drill' was because one of the infected Pokémon escaped. I read about it in Colress's journal."

"_I don't understand why—_"

"I need to go, now." And with that, Trip turned off the earpiece, cutting off all distractions and heading into hypervigilance as he reached for a Pokéball.

* * *

"Holy smokes," James breathed, taking in the sight below him. "That's a lot of people. At least 300." He, along with the others, were crouched behind a short concrete wall near the top of the spiral roadway the descended into what was most definitely the parking garage. James peeked over the concrete wall again at the mass of darkly dressed Team Plasma grunts below. "Probably 306. Yes, it's 306."

"How can you be so sure?" Butch asked.

"I've never lost a jellybean guessing contest," James told him straight.

"People are not jellybeans!" Cassidy hissed.

"It's the same concept!" James fought back.

"What are we talking about jellybeans for?" Skyla asked, kneeling between the two warring parties. The team of former Team Rocket members jumped and Butch nearly yelped before Cassidy slapped a hand over his mouth. Skyla blinked, and Elesa pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Don't give us away!" Cassidy hissed.

Butch wretched Cassidy's hand away from his mouth and, after a couple gasps for air, added, "Yeah, sheesh, don't sneak up on us when we're trying to be sneaky."

"Sorry..." Skyla shrugged it off.

"What are you two doin' here anyway?" Meowth asked.

"It's complicated," Elesa answered. Now she, too, was kneeling with them behind the wall. "May was compromised, and we were originally sent to retrieve you. But we received word that the decision to abort was reversed, and now we're here for the same reason as you."

Jessie scoffed, but said, "Well, give Adalet or whoever our report then: We're outnumbered three to one."

Elesa stared. Then, she snapped her gaze away and slide closer to the wall to peer over the edge, and her composure was visibly shaken.

"Three to... ?" she blanched.

* * *

Concordia held a meticulously-kept card key delicately above the reader attached to the rusted elevator, keeping her party members in suspense. They watched her carefully, growing more confused upon her prolonged inaction. Eventually, Serena—a volunteer, though one of the last-minute additions to the team—cleared her throat.

"Is everything OK?" she asked. She might have used Concordia's name if she had known it. Clemont cast her an uneasy glance, but Serena kept a practiced, caring focus on the pensive sister, who turned and looked at Serena with an unreadable expression.

"You do realize that the moment I use this, Ghetsis may quickly find out I'm here," she said lightly.

"They already know the G-Men are here," Drew said; his speech was clipped. "There's nothing to lose."

"But they don't know N and his sisters are helping us," Wallace calmly pointed out. Drew flicked a tense look his way, and the one-way strain was easily felt among the entirety of the group, though they—save Max—didn't have the slightest clue why.

"Well, unless someone has another idea that doesn't risk the destruction of an old elevator that's our only way down..." Drew started to a silent audience. Then, with a self-assured nod, he said, "Thought so." Concordia slid the card in then, and the entire group quickly shuffled inside before the descent began. Within seconds, the castle came into view, and it was just as breathtaking for these new agents.

"You know, organized crime is getting surprisingly more creative," Zoey remarked.

"And crazy," Kenny added with half of a chuckle. Dawn looked sore upon the comment, however, and Kenny quickly realized why it was inappropriate—for multiple reasons, especially with N's sisters standing beside them. He quickly added, "Sorry."

"It just means we have to be more creative," Bonnie optimistically said. "And if there's one thing this group has, it's creativity."

It was true. Unintentional as it was, the group was comprised almost entirely of coordinators, with several unique additions, including an inventor, a stage performer, and a trainer whose personality whose particular personality was so vociferous that it was almost an artform in and of itself. Still, Max adjusted his glasses before inquiring, "Creativity?"

"I meant everyone else," Bonnie retorted wryly. "I don't know anything about you."

Max almost looked offended, then said, "I'm Max."

"Yeah, that's original," she laughed. Clemont gave her a look—her jollity in the severe situation was clearly not appreciated—and seeing his look, she added more seriously, "I'm kidding with you. I know you're May's brother. We're gonna find her." Drew breathed out at that, and Max pursed his lips.

They reached the bottom and started toward the castle. Here, the atmosphere changed. Any lighthearted attempts were left at the closing elevator doors, and Barry stepped deliberately ahead to ask the group, "So, do we split up?"

"Lance communicated to me that Trip believes May went looking for him," Wallace said, and at this, Drew's brow shot up.

"He thinks May got away?" he asked. He hadn't heard of this news yet, and he was halfway annoyed he hadn't. "On what basis?"

"I'm not sure," Wallace admitted, but any lead was better than no lead for Drew.

"We need to go straight to where they're doing the experiments then," he concluded before looking pointedly at the sisters. "Can you take us there?"

Anthea and Concordia exchanged careful glances and then nodded.

"We can, yes," Concordia answered.

* * *

Colress rationalistic temperance dissolved entirely the moment he reached his room and saw the door mangled into sharp-edged panels and splinters at the entrance. His lips curled into a beastlike snarl, and an equally animalistic scoff followed. He stumbled over the debris and went to his desk, ripping out a drawer and retrieving a first-aid kit. His hand had been badly burned and would require more sophisticated medical attention, but he would need to reassess his place and decide how to address the inconvenient situation facing him first.

Colress applied a low-grade Rawst treatment to his hand before pulling out a roll of disposable gauze and starting to unravel. He ripped the end of the gauze with his teeth then appropriately dressed the wound just as his phone rang. He reached for it with his uninjured hand and, after checking the caller ID, answered in a scathing tone, "What?"

"_It's been twenty minutes._" Aldith's voice, sounding equally annoyed patched through. "_We're waiting for the OK to come back in still._"

"I know." Colress threw the unused gauze back into the kit. He groped for his scientific equanimity again and managed to find some.

"_So... ?_" Aldith prompted him impatiently.

"You don't have the OK," Colress said calmly. "Stay out there."

This did not sit well with Aldith, and she growled, "_What the hell is going on in there?_"

"It's not your concern, Aldith." He paused then, feeling that something was out of the place, door aside. It was obvious enough that someone had raided has room, but he hadn't yet thought of what they might try to find. Trailing over his fingers over the abnormally disheveled papers on his desk—yes, someone had clearly been tampering with his private things—he soon realized what was missing.

"_Where's Ghetsis?_" Aldith suddenly demanded, apparently thinking she might have more success with the higher leader.

His response was likely not what she expected: Colress stood and overturned the entire desk in a fury that she surely heard, and then he practically screamed, "It's not your concern, Aldith!" before hanging up. He paced the room then, hand clutched over the mouth, mind running through dozens of thoughts by the minute.

The phone rang again. Colress snatched it up, answering, "Aldith—"

"_Colress._" A deeper voice came through, and Colress realized he had the wrong person.

"Ghetsis, sir," Colress started apologetically.

"_Where are you?_" Ghetsis demanded. "_Annie and Oakley said you disappeared._"

"Surely you don't believe I would abandon my post?" Colress asked in a pleasant, dilatory manner. "... I came to my room to treat a burn on my hand."

Little trust was regained, but after a moment's silence, Ghetsis revealed, "_Concordia has reentered the building._"

Colress stopped pacing. His expression changed from wild fury to careful contemplation, and he drolled, "Interesting... Tell Annie and Oakley to leave the Maple girl alone and find me." He returned to his first-aid kit, picking it out from the papers among his overturned desk. As he thought, a couple of Paralyze Heals were inside. "I believe I know what the G-Men are doing, and I know how we can respond."

* * *

"Elesa, Skyla, and the Rockets report we're outnumbered three to one."

This news from Lance was met with silence and unreadable expressions. They—being the elite few considered important enough to be present—were back in the communication room waiting upon this very news, and it was certainly not welcome news. Yet, Leaf appeared undeterred as she folded her hands together and sat up straighter than before. There was a slight pink ring around her eyes that no one would acknowledge, though by then they all knew the reason behind it.

"And?" she questioned.

Her response was equally unwanted on Lance's end; others, including Iris and Paul, might have felt some restorative effects at her unwavering stance. Still, Lance sternly asked, "Are you sure this is something you want to pursue?"

"What's the matter, Lance?" Leaf asked with calculated, robotic humor. "You were always more hawkish than I ever was." The chill was undeniable, and it was surprising in its own way. Cynthia raised an eyebrow; she was normally the one to challenge Lance, never Leaf, and it caused her her (and others) to wonder just how deeply the effects of Gary were.

"I'm not falling for your provocations this time," Lance half-warned. "I'm merely communicating what I was told."

Iris's hand anxiously rubbed the silver chain connected to her Key Stone and, suddenly feeling the pressure and grief of the moment, quickly turned to Adalet. With a slight tremor in her voice, she asked, "Erol, what do you think?"

"Are you considering changing your mind again, Ms. Ajagara?" Adalet asked calmly without missing a single beat. Iris let go of the chain and folded her hands in her lap. Cilan cast her a concerned look. The three all knew how it must have appeared: She was wishy-washy, vacillating between one decision to another, and Adalet was warning her of the consequences of another change.

"I recognize I have a lot of personal investment in this, and it that doesn't make me the best decision-maker," Iris finally said, a wise answer. "That's why I brought you here in the first place." Adalet had never indicated a lack of respect for Iris, but it was certainly _gained_ then. He turned abruptly to the rest of the room.

"They don't know they outnumber us," he said, and Iris took in a surprised breath. He would defend her original position, and both Paul and Leaf seemed surprised, too. Silver smirked, and Ash caught the expression and looked bothered—_really_ bothered. Misty frowned and gently touched his shoulder, assuming it was the news of Gary that had him distraught.

Adalet's declaration had turned the room, and Surge pressed a hand against his mouth, dragging it down, before adding, "We do have the higher ground, literally."

"And the right amount of talent," Steven appended. He then slowly moved his gaze toward the current crop of Champions, continuing, "... and righteous indignation."

The decision was made. Lance rose his head and said, "Well, if that's how we feel, then we need to move now. May's rescue team is underground, and we're losing time."

"Then why hasn't Team Plasma moved back inside?" Cynthia pointed out. "It's been at least a half-hour, and they're still just standing in the garage?"

"Disorganization?" Paul mumbled as a suggestion, but Cynthia frowned.

"Maybe," she conceded.

"I already said we should go," Leaf broke out impatiently. "I stand by that."

"I do, too," Iris added on quickly, and Paul nodded.

"Then let's go." Leaf stood up, and everyone else followed suit. Yet, Iris turned her head and watched Leaf for a moment as she turned, shoved her hand into her trainer bag, and pulled out a silver bracelet with two charms on it: the female astrological symbol and a multi-colored pearl with a familiar double-helix design. Iris's breath caught as Leaf slid the bracelet onto her wrist before she pounded out of the room. Paul's eyes connected surreptitiously with Iris's from across the way as soon as Leaf left, and she saw he, too, had pulled out a jewelry piece—a lapel in the shape of a Torterra's head—with the same kaleidoscopic effect. He pinned it to his shirt and followed Leaf.

"She's angry," Cilan commented from behind Iris, meaning Leaf. Iris pursed her lips.

"So am I," she said. "So is Paul." A pause, and the she strode to the door, too, with Cilan on her heels. They were headed toward the main entrance where everyone was waiting, but Adalet intercepted her first.

"Madam Champion," he started. "Given this is your region, you will be expected to speak and lead the charge. Lance has already said we're moving out, but..."

Cilan tensed up at this, but Iris only nodded and said, "I know."

"Perhaps we can take a few minutes to—" Cilan started, addressing Iris, but she cut him off.

"—It's OK," she assured him. "I know what to say." Cilan appeared surprised at this, and she smiled weakly before moving past Adalet and into the main area.

Everyone was already on their feet when she arrived. A hush fell upon her appearance, and suddenly, she had hundreds of eyes on her. She took in a deep breath to quell her anxiety; she glanced at Cilan beside her, who offered an attempt at a reassuring smile, and then looked out at the crowd, where she found Leaf and Paul both watching her. Iris rose her chin a little higher, remembering that she was speaking for more than just herself, and that was when she began.

"This is going to be dangerous." It was an unexpected start, and Cilan—among others—almost cringed. But then she continued, "There's no hiding that, and it wouldn't be right for me to hide that. But I know that if you're here, you're aware that there are risks, and I can't even put into words how grateful I am that you'd be willing to put yourselves on the line for Unova. This is my home, and this is the home to hundreds of thousands of others—including some of you—who will also be grateful to you after today."

A pause. Iris waited a moment, thinking how to address the next matter.

"I know some of us have lost people close to us because of what Team Plasma has done." Her gaze moved to Leaf, whose gaze had briefly turned glossy before returning to normal, then to Paul, then to Burgundy. "This is personal for a lot of us, myself included. Remember this isn't about us, though. This is about them. This is about protecting the people and Pokémon in not just Unova, but all of Napaj. That's our real responsibility." She had said what she needed to say, and she didn't know how to end it. So, she simply said, "Thank you."

Nothing. And then, the sound of clapping: It was Ash, who was shortly joined by Georgia, and then it was a flood. It was not celebratory or congratulatory in any sense, but empowering, and Iris smiled regardless and rose her voice above the noise to yell, "Let's go!"

The crowd immediately began to disperse, and Iris swiftly left Cilan's side to move through the crowd and find someone before she permanently lost him in the ferment.

"N," she started quickly, seriously, after finding him. He had been on the edge of the crowd, and she touched his shoulder to get his attention. "Are you coming?"

"An interesting speech," he mused, not answering her question. "You're an interesting leader, not at all whom I expected."

This caught Iris off guard, and if she had more time, she might have wanted to follow this tangent. She repeated his name again, though, and the same question, and he nodded.

"Yes, I'm coming," he said.

"I'm going to look for your father," Iris informed him next, and the implication was evident.

"Then I will come with you," N said. "I want to see him, too." Iris breathed out.

"I thought so," she said before turning to find Cilan catching up.

* * *

Concordia and Anthea led the way in perfect step with each other down the long, white-lit hallways. The two seemed relatively at ease—at least, no more strained than they had been assisting whom they had once considered an enemy—but those who followed had grown more tense now being inside the castle. It was beautifully well-kept, _pristine_ even, but such decor did not have the intended effect. It inspired a great sense of discomfort, especially when Barry's curious hand passively drew back one of the curtains and revealed the outdoor projections to the entire party.

"This is like something out of a horror story," Serena muttered with a shiver. She said it to no one in particular, but she was careful to ensure neither Concordia nor Anthea heard her. "Is it any wonder N and his sisters are like this? They've grown up living a lie."

Zoey offered a strange kind of smile and said, "So have we."

They came to the white double-doors at the end of the hallway. The sounds of infected Pokémon could be heard through the half-opened doors; one was swung at an acute angle and had deep scratch marks on the bottom that tore away the white paint and revealed the wooden interior. It was one of the first blemishes in the otherwise perfectly maintained mansion.

The sisters stopped. The trainers began to preemptively pull out Pokéballs in case of a fight. Drew, taking in a shaky breath, stepped ahead of the sister and pushed the doors open.

There, an altercation was more evident, but May was nevertheless nowhere in sight. The team waited anxiously for a moment, Pokéballs still raised as they took in the scene: Dozens of sick Pokémon in small barred cages, abandoned strange experiments by scientists who had left for safer ground, a table overturned, papers everywhere. Lileep was in the back, and Wallace sighed before lowering his Pokéball and moving ahead to see it.

"Well, there's confirmation Team Plasma _was _behind the break-in at Mauville University," Kenny remarked, but no one was gratified by this news. Drew, especially, looked upset. He pressed a hand to his face and let out a frustrated breath.

"We're going to find her," Dawn assured him. "It's a big mansion, and we know she didn't disappear."

"Was she here, though, or was it already just a mess?" Max mumbled, stepping over a broken beaker.

"Concordia and Anthea would know," Wallace remarked from afar. He was standing in front of the Lileep; it was restless, but proved nonthreatening as he reached up to pet its receptacle. "They've been here before."

All eyes were drawn to the sisters, who were standing off alone together, hovering over one table

"Something's wrong," Anthea said quietly, causing alarm the suddenly coarse through all her companions.

"What's wrong?" Bonnie asked quickly.

Concordia turned to the others gravely and, stepping aside to reveal a broken and empty cage, said, "There were more."

"These cages are not at all structured to address the unique challenges the Pokérus presents." Clemont immediately spoke next with calm, scientific rationalism. He was a short distance away observing another broken cage. "It wouldn't be relatively difficult for them to... escape..." He trailed off as the gravity of this revelation set in upon him as it did everyone else. A beat of silence fell among the screeches and cries of the infected, and then Wallace cleared his throat.

"This changes things," he said. "I need to get back in contact with the Battle Pyramid."

There were some nods of agreement, but uncertainty now plagued the group. What would they do? What _could_ they do? No one knew where May and Trip were, but no one also knew where the escaped Pokémon were. Questions and fears soon began to spring forth from the group in a feeble attempt to make sense of the immensely more dangerous situation.

"We can't leave without May," Drew said, half-panicked now.

"Or Trip," Barry added, agreeing.

"Drew, she may already be infected," Zoey said. It was an unempathetic, shrewd part of her which said it, and she immediately regretted it, but the point stood regardless: If she was infected, then her death sentence had already been signed and sealed, regardless of whether they found her or not, and continuing the search might sign more.

"We're not leaving," Max insisted.

"There's a chance she's not," Dawn went on. "We don't even really know what happened here. We came here on heresay, there's no real evidence May was actually here or not... She could be fine, and Annie and Oakley just have her trapped somewhere..."

"I agree," Zoey backpedaled. "But we should still see what they say at the Battle Pyramid. Maybe Trip has already found her and we can just leave."

The conversation cut short there when the sound of rabid barking cut through the air; they spun toward the ballroom doors and saw a Mightyena—its scleras purple, its fur balding—charging toward them. Someone screamed; the group broke apart to escape, but Kenny turned as he ran and enlarged one of his Pokéballs.

"Floatzel, Whirlpool!"

Mightyena leapt up, teeth barred, intending to sink them into his new foe, but Floatzel crossed his arms and spun out a torrent of water that stopped Mightyena in his tracks. He spun back into the doors, closing them them again and leaving a soaked trail to where he stood. Mightyena appeared hardly affected though; it shook its fur, let out a Roar that terrified Floatzel and sent him back into his Pokéball; the rest of the Pokémon, all still in their cages, turned riotous. Its wild eyes turned on Bonnie, and Clemont cried out her name as the Dark-type crouched to mount an attack against her next.

"Blaze Kick!"

It was as if from nowhere that Blaziken came flying in, and it landed a fiery direct hit against Mightyena's chest. Mightyena was thrown into a table upon which a caged, infected Vulpix sat; the table collapsed, the cage's door loosened, and Vulpix, too, broke free. This huge magnification of their problems might have gathered more of a horrified reaction were it not first for the shocked gazes that landed on May and her Blaziken. The trainer herself had come in through a secondary entrance and was standing on a table for higher ground, where it might have been considered a modicum safer. Beautifly was hovering above her shoulder, and Blaziken had returned to her side.

"May!" Drew cried out for her, both stunned and relieved by her arrival.

She didn't respond to him; rather, she thrust her hand out and ordered, "Beautifly, now, use Stun Spore!" Beautifly immediately obeyed and jetted forward with a thick, yellow dust trailing behind her. Vulpix scuttled away to avoid it, but Mightyena, still recovering from Blaziken's attack, was paralyzed. Still, not a moment's rest followed as an infected Camerupt charged through the closed doors, breaking them open, and immediately set its sight on the closest human: Max.

"Come on!" May leapt down from the table and grabbed his wrist. "We have to go."

In the chaos, the group split in all sorts of different directions: Drew ignored the closest and most logical escape faction, however, and instead turned toward May, her brother, and the Camerupt. Camerupt was preparing to charge, and Drew whipped out a Pokéball and enlarged it.

"Flygon, use Dragon Breath!"

Flygon flew directly overhead the slower and Camerupt and unleashed its eerie white-hot flames directly into the top conduit on its back. It was a vicious tactic, and it caused Camerupt's purplish eyes to roll and for a thick, lavender-tinted substance to spurt from its nostrils. Drew caught up with the faction and May led them straight into a storage room near the back. At the doorway, Drew whipped around and called back in his Flygon before the door was tightly slammed shut.

Heavy breathing ensued. Drew cast his eyes about the room to survey who had made it in with them: May, Max, Barry, and Bonnie. The others had run off elsewhere.

May let go of Max's wrist, returned her Beautifly and Blaziken, and, clutching her upper arm, slide down against the wall until she was on the floor. She looked exhausted; she had evidently been running for a while by then. Yet, she looked up tiredly at the others and asked, "Are you guys okay?"

"Are _we_ okay?" Drew sputtered incredulously. "Are _you_—?" He stopped suddenly, his eyes widening. The adrenaline had caused him—and others, he was sure—to miss some more important details, the most prominent being that May's upper arm was badly torn up and bleeding. Hot, red streams of liquid seeped between the fingers clutched against her arm, and Drew breathed, "May..."

She wetted her lips, perhaps to reply, but Camerupt suddenly threw itself against the door and caused half the party to yelp in surprise.

"We gotta block that door, pronto," Barry said. "It might get tired enough to leave us alone, and then we can go and find the others." That was when Bonnie started to panic.

"They're out there facing infected Pokémon by themselves," she broke out. "My brother, Serena—"

"It'll be okay," May cut her off, trying to reassure her. "They have Wallace. He's a Champion." She said it as if genuinely believed Champion were infallible beings, and as if Bonnie were old enough and naïve enough to still be under the delusion they were. Nevertheless, Bonnie heaved in a long breath and nodded. Drew continued to stare at May, at her arm, and she avoided his gaze.

"C'mon, c'mon!" Barry was on his feet again and had moved to an old filing cabinet. "Help me get this in front of the door!"

* * *

"Man, I'm thirsty," Wyatt panted to his partner, fanning himself with his shirt. "Got any water?"

"No," Josiah huffed. The time was ticking by at a torturous rate by then. Forty-five minutes had passed, and yet, no approval for their re-entry had come, and the group was growing restless. The last time this happened, it only took fifteen minutes to get whatever the situation was under control. The extended wait had some were theorizing they were being punished or that they were being tested, but for most, it only had them annoyed and dehydrated.

"This is ridiculous," Wyatt groaned. "This never happened when we were in Team Rocket." A pair of razor-sharp steely blue eyes suddenly turned on him, and Wyatt realized he had inadvertently said that aloud only a couple of feet away from Aldith, his superior. "S-Sorry, Madam," he stammered out.

Aldith still looked indignant, but she half-turned her head away and, with her chin still raised, said, "Actually, I agree. This is ridiculous. We're going back in."

"W-What?" Josiah blinked, though he certainly wasn't going to protest. "Okay!" Once Aldith crossed the line to head back inside, it was assumed among all that permissions had been granted, and the rest of the grunts started to follow her.

"Oh Mew." Hundreds of feet higher, Skyla breathed in horror as she peered over the concrete wall. She looked desperately toward Elesa, saying, "They're going back in!"

Slouched against the wall, and though unaddressed, Cassidy mumbled, "And?"

"May's rescue team was deployed and is inside," Elesa said seriously, and then everyone seemed to understand.

"If dey go back in and fine 'em, it's game over," Meowth said.

The group sat in suspense for a moment, trying to come up with a plan—and quick. Most eyes were on Elesa, waiting for her judgment to pass, but it was evident the gym leader was struggling to reach a decision, any decision. And that was when Jessie took action.

"Well, I suppose we can't let that happen," she said, reaching into her purse and pulling out a single Pokéball. Its appearance, and the implication of it, jolted her companions.

"You can't be serious," Skyla protested. "If all of us together are outnumbered three to one, then the six of us are outnumbered fifty to one!"

"Seven of us," Meowth quickly corrected, pointing to himself.

"Like it makes a difference," Skyla contended with him before looking back at Jessie. "Sorry, but this is insane!" Yet, Jessie's lip still curled into a smirk.

"Honey," she began derisively, "you forget who we are." She then turned away from the group and held the Pokéball out. "Seviper, use Haze!" Seviper emerged, and Jessie directed him toward the wall. He slithered up the side and and unhinged his jaw to let out a thick, dark cloud that trailed over the edge and began to fill the room. The alarm among the Team Plasma agents was immediate, and they jerked their heads forward to find the source of the Haze, but there were already concealed in a fog.

"Good one, Jessie!" James praised before pulling out a Pokéball of his own. "Come out, Carnivine, and then use Bullet Seed!"

Screams of "What's happening?!" and "We're under attack!" echoed through the garage. Butch and Cassidy exchanged a blank look before smiling devilishly themselves and releasing their Cloyster and Tentacruel. Skyla leaned over the edge of wall, desperate to get a look at what was happening; the Haze blocked her view of the crowd, but she managed the catch a glimpse of the door leading, presumably, back into the castle. It was closed.

"Maybe this could work," she breathed, and Elesa nodded.

"They can't see us, so if we maintain our higher ground and attack from up here, then perhaps we'll hold them off long enough for—"

"—Charge!" Meowth cut off Elesa as he, the other four Rockets, and their Pokémon began stampeding down the long, spiral roadway toward the bottom. Elesa deadpanned, unmoved. Skyla stared after them blankly.

"There's a reason why Team Rocket fell apart," Elesa eventually sighed.

Halfway down the road, the group might have realized their charge was a mistake were it not for the thrill the adrenaline provided them. They dipped under the haze, where they had a view of the utter confusion among the Team Plasma grunts, and the Team Plasma grunts had a view of their attackers. One, still coughing from the smog, said, "Hey, I recognize those guys. Aren't they—?"

"To protect the world from devastation!" Jessie screeched out in order to be heard among at least a few of the Plasmas.

"To unite all peoples within our—nation!" James wasn't quite as loud as his wife, and he, now also affected by the Haze, coughed out the last word.

"There is _no _time for that," Cassidy snarled at the two, effectively ending the motto. "Tentacruel, use Sludge!" Screams ensued as a sizable section of Plasmas were covered in a black, noxious tar.

"Yeah, and then follow it up with Hydro Blast, Cloyster!" Butch added on.

"Butch, you idiot!" Cassidy hit the back of his head. "That's just gonna clean my Sludge off them!"

Before Butch could respond or make another call, Meowth yelped, "Look out!" The group jerked their heads up to see a Shadow Ball headed their way and split straight down the middle diving out of the way. The Shadow Ball ended up hitting the behind them, leaving a deep impact.

"What is _this_?" Aldith said furiously, emerging from the crowd with a Liepard at her side. "Who are you and what do you think you're doing here? How did you find us?"

"Madam Aldith." A face familiar to all four of the Rockets—Dr. Namba—stepped forward and into the open semicircle that had formed around the Plasma leader. "I can explain. I know these four."

"You _know_ them?" Aldith sputtered, assuming the worst.

"N-No! Not like how you're thinking—my loyalties lie with Team Plasma now, of course," Namba quickly corrected. "What I mean to say is: I _knew _these four. I oversaw a number of their mission while working under Giovanni for Team Rocket. Those two—" He pointed to Butch and Cassidy first. "—were captured shortly before the organization was dissolved and were thrown in jail, and I'll be damned to know how they ever got out. Those two—" He pointed to Jessie and James next. "—are traitors. They sold us out and escaped retribution from both the law _and _from us."

"Oh, that's all?" Aldith suddenly looked and sounded far more relaxed. She folded her arms and shook her head before looking back at the Rockets, who had quickly gathered themselves up again and dusted themselves off. "Is this supposed to be an audition? We had a lot of Rockets cross over into Team Plasma following Team Rocket's disbandment. If that's the case, I'm not that impressed."

"We're not here to join your cult, thank you very much," Jessie dismissed with a sneer. "There's only enough room in Unova for one evil group, and Team Plasma has got to go."

Aldith laughed in response, and she could barely muster the words to reply, "What? You think the measly remains of Team Rocket are going to be able to take on Team Plasma? Oh, that's rich."

Jessie smiled wryly. "I wasn't talking about Team Rocket," she said.

As if by cue, the distinct roar of a dragon rang out through the garage, and a Dragonite flew beneath the smoke and unleashed a Flamethrower upon the crowd. The Dragonite was soon joined by others: An Aggron dropped to the ground, leaving a deep impact where he landed, before using Metal Sound and sending hands flying toward ears. A Venesaur dropped down behind Aggron, and its vines immediately picked up an unfortunate bystander and hurled him several yards into other Plasmas.

Chaos ensued. The battle had begun.

* * *

"Ugh," Harley groaned, spinning boredly in his chair. "How did we get stuck with nugatory _sideline_ duties?"

He and Solidad were alone in the communication room of the Battle Pyramid, which seemed so much larger with only two people to fill it. Harley tried to put his feet up on the table, but the scolding look that Solidad sent him the moment he lifted even one leg was enough to deter him, and he sunk back into his chair.

"Because I volunteered us," Solidad eventually answered.

"Yeah, why?" Harley snorted.

"Because you didn't want to be a part of May's rescue team," Solidad replied in a matter-of-fact manner, "which was perhaps for the better. You would have been a major irritant and distraction."

Harley glowered at her, then asked, "Are you punishing me?"

She was silent for a moment. Then, she said, "It's not nugatory. We're the communication line between everyone in the castle."

Harley appeared frustrated upon that. "No one has even—" he started, but he stopped short and muttered "of course" when the microphone came alive with feedback.

"_Wallace to Battle Pyramid._" The feedback eventually formed into a voice. "_Can you read?_"

Solidad slid toward the microphone from her chair, held down the audio button, and replied, "Wallace, this is Solidad. I read you."

"_Solidad, I need to speak with Lance._"

"Why's that?" Harley leaned toward the microphone whilst Solidad was still holding down the button.

"_There are infected Pokémon who've escaped and are running around in the mansion,_" Wallace revealed. "_We found May, but the rescue team has inadvertently split up._"

Solidad sucked in her breath and temporarily released the button. She exchanged a wide-eyed glance with Harley, whom appeared uncharacteristically alarmed himself. Solidad regathered herself, pushed the button again, and said, "Wallace, Lance just left. They all did. Harley and I are the only ones in the Battle Pyramid."

A dead silence followed. It was bad news, both to hear and to deliver. Solidad wetted her lips before adding, "Let me get back to you, Wallace." She released the audio button again and switched channels.

"This is Battle Pyramid to Lance. Do you read?" She and Harley heard only feedback that eventually transmuted to the sounds of battle; Solidad repeated the call, but again nothing came. She switched channels again.

"This is Battle Pyramid to Adalet. Do you read?" Nothing.

"This is Battle Pyramid to Leaf. Do you read?" Solidad asked, growing more desperate in her third switch. Again, the same procedure, with the same results.

"This is Battle Pyramid to Elesa. Do you read?" It was a last-ditch attempt, but she, too, did not respond despite multiple attempts, and Solidad fell back into her chair, defeated.

"That's all of them," she breathed.

"All of them?" Harley questioned.

"There were seven two-way devices sent out," Solidad explained. "May's was crushed. Trip turned his off. Four aren't responding. Wallace is the only one who's contacted us, and he needs our help." She covered her face with her hands and lowered her head, thinking. Then, she abruptly stood up.

"Stay here," she ordered him. "Continue to try getting in contact with someone to let them know. They're trying to force their way into the castle, and they don't know what's waiting for them."

"_You're_ going, and _I_ have to stay?" Harley complained incredulously, watching her as she hurried to grab her bag and pull out several of her Pokéballs. Solidad didn't respond at first, but once she reached the exit, she spun to face Harley again.

"Lucky you," she said. "Maybe you'll be the only one who lives to tell the story."

* * *

"Dragonite, use Thunder Punch!" Iris's order landed Dragonite's glittering fist straight into the gut of an enemy Poliwrath, sending it hurdling back into its trainer. She let on a satisfied smirk. "Nice job," she complimented him, and he merely grunted in response. Iris was about to take on another opponent when she recognized a thin, long shadow falling over her small stature, and she whipped her head around with an audible gasp to see a Bisharp raising its blades above her head.

"Beartic, Ice Beam!"

Iris jerked her head forward again after the razor torrent of snow knocked back her enemy, saving her life. There stood Georgia, and she, too, smirked before wryly saying, "Watch your back, Madam Champion," just as a Rhyperior was stalking toward her from behind. Iris swiftly ordered an Ice Punch from her Dragonite, repaying the debt.

"Watch yours," Iris threw back to a stunned Georgia before spinning around to take on an enemy Ferroseed.

She was surrounded by mayhem: To her left, Burgundy and her Darmanitan were grappling with a Swampert, and Chili and his Arcanine had to sweep into help. To her right, Cilan's Crustle was taking on both a Stoutland and a Hippopotas. Caitlin's Reuniculus had just sent a Nidoqueen flying overhead with Psychic, and Grimsley and Marshall were battling three Pokémon each. Cress was attempting to retreat, his Simipour injured, and Shauntal had to take his place while also dealing with her own battle. And that was just within the nearby vicinity.

Cilan managed to fight off his adversaries, and he deliberately backed himself up against Iris to murmur, "This is a losing battle. We're vastly outnumbered. We might have started with the upper hand thanks to the element of surprise but this—" He held a hand out to the battlefield. The couple winced when, from afar, they saw Ash's Snorlax being thrown back into a parked car. "—this is all defense, not offense."

Iris frowned.

"We just need something to change the tide in our favor," she insisted.

"Like what?" Cilan asked.

Iris didn't answer for a moment. Her attention was captured by an opening, a visible, thin walkway through the warring parties to the doors that led back into the castle. She turned her head, desperately searching for N among the malestrom. He ended up being easy to find: He stuck out, being the only one to not participate in the battle. He simply stood there as if in a daze, his hands hanging loosely at his sides, his eyes locked in a thousand-yard stare.

"Like taking down their leader," Iris finally said. "N!" He didn't respond, so she hurried over to him, grabbed his wrist, and repeated his name. He blinked and stared blankly at her. "Come on, this is our chance!"

She took off for the door with N in tow, and Cilan was briefly paralyzed by his own alarm.

"Iris?!" he called after her. "Iris!" He tried to follow, but the path disappeared, and he was swallowed whole by the battle again.

Iris and N made it inside, and once there, she spun toward him, saying, "Where will we find him?"

"Who?" N asked distractedly, and Iris looked incredulous.

"Your _father_," she emphasized.

"Oh," N said, disaffected. "Likely the throne room at the very top. It's safest there."

"Okay." Iris nodded. Seeing his expression, she had to ask, "Are you still with me in this?"

He was silent for a moment, and Iris began to wonder if he had drifted off again and would require her to pull him back again. Yet, just as she opened her mouth to repeat the question, he also nodded and said, "Yes."

* * *

Camerupt rammed full-speed into the door for the upteempth time. The door held surprisingly well, though a long crack had splintered down the middle, and the group knew once that broke, the tipsy filing cabinet would be the last boundary standing between them and Death. Yet, they no longer jumped each time Camerupt charged into the door. The hope that he would tire and leave had withered away, and they were only waiting now.

Silence had persisted for a while, though the a collection of the same questions were on everyone's mind. May was still nursing her injured arm, and Drew was still watching her. Everyone else was watching them. No warm greetings—not a kiss, not an embrace, not a single indication that they were lovers at all—had been exchanged between them since reuniting, and it was troublesome. May wouldn't look at him at all, but that was soon amended when, finally, Drew cleared his throat to speak.

"What happened?" he asked quietly. May briefly glanced at him, but her eyes fell again, as if she were ashamed.

"I found Colress and Ghetsis, but Annie and Oakley caught me in a surprise attack while I was eavesdropping," she explained. "Blaziken and I managed to get away, and we ran down here to see if we could find Trip. He wasn't here, and Annie and Oakley pursued, and I was trapped into the ballroom. A battle ensued, and we broke some things." What they "broke" was obvious enough. May continued, "The sisters fled, and I—" She stopped short, hesitating. Then, she managed to force out, "That Mightyena got me. ... It got Blaziken too."

Drew lowered his head into a hand, and Max shut his eyes. Barry and Bonnie both appeared utterly distressed. It wasn't what they wanted to hear, though they had all already guessed at the truth: May had been bitten and was now infected. And to make it worse, her Blaziken was affected too.

"I knew the rest of you would be coming, trying to force your way into the castle, and I decided to try to stop all the escaped infected by paralyzing them, so maybe we could make sure this didn't happen to someone else," May went on. "The effects of the virus don't start until maybe a day after you're first infected, so Blaziken won't turn aggressive for a little while. By then, I figure we'll be out of here one way or another." Her last remark came off as morbid as Camerupt charged the door again.

"May..." Max started hoarsely. "There's no cure. Trip didn't find anything."

Yet, May only smiled sadly and said, "You don't have to tell me. I came to that conclusion myself, from Adalet telling me we were aborting the mission, and then seeing all those Pokémon..."

Drew's head rose again. His eyes were empty when he said, "Paul said you insisted on volunteering."

"I did." May nodded.

"Why?"

"... I was mad at you," May admitted quietly. "I wanted to prove to you I was capable." She let on another strange smile and said, "Well, I sure showed you, didn't I?"

"Don't talk like that." Drew winced. "You're not incapable." He had her eyes now, and he sucked in his breath before continuing, "You know, you're the strongest opponent I've ever faced. I don't doubt if you actually wanted to go through all the hoops—earning the gym badges, battling your way through the league, taking on the Elite Four—you could take on Wallace and defeat him yourself. I know that as your rival." A pause. May's gaze was softening. "But I also know that you're compassionate; you're empathetic. You've certainly got better people skills than I do. It would make you one of Hoenn's greatest Champions. I know that as your—" He choked on the word, and it never made it out.

May pressed her hand more firmly against her shoulder. The blood was coagulating and drying by then.

"Well, it doesn't matter anymore," she said. "Wallace will find someone else, or someone else will rise to the occasion." May flicked her eyes toward her brother, and though caught by surprise, the nod wasn't lost upon him.

Drew swallowed, feeling a sudden, unusual surge of nervousness.

"May, I was planning on asking you to marry me," he confessed, and May drew in a sharp breath. Barry and Bonnie were visibly surprised too; only Max appeared disaffected. Drew went on, "I was being selfish. You know already I'm not particularly fond of the G-Men, but I also saw what being Champion—and being married to a Champion—put Iris and Cilan through. I didn't want that for you and I." His voice briefly cracked when he added, "Still, I wasn't talking with you like how a husband should."

May stared at him for a while. A faint, rosy color bloomed on her cheeks, and she appeared tense—then utterly relaxed. She offered a real smile this time and said, "You are now."

Drew let out a self-deprecating scoff.

"It's a little late now," he said.

"It's not too late," Bonnie broke out suddenly, jumping to her feet. "It's never too late. Marry her now!" The suggestion shocked her companions, almost as if it were inappropriate.

"_Now_?" Drew questioned just as Camerupt rammed into the door again.

"Hey, yeah, that's a great idea!" Barry exclaimed, jumping up too. "I can legally marry people. I got my certificate online, remember?"

"See? Perfect!" Bonnie spun back toward the couple. "Marry her now!"

May and Drew stared wide-eyes at her for a moment and then at each other. Yet, Drew eventually let on real smile himself and inquired, "May?"

She closed her lips to contain the grin and nodded.

* * *

Seeing his Greninja thrown down face-first into the concrete and rendered unable to battle by a Primeape sent a surge of both frustration and anxiety through Ash, and he gritted his teeth as he called him back into Pokeball. That was his fourth Pokémon down. He and his Pokémon had done well in fighting through the assemblage of Team Plasma members, but the numbers were simply not in their favor, and he and his Pokémon could not realistically keep up. Pikachu temporarily took Greninja's place, taking out Primeape with a Thunderbolt, before Ash called out his Bayleef.

"Hey, you—!" Ash heard a voice yell out nearby. "You're—" Ash initially thought _he _was the one being addressed, but he turned and saw it was, in fact, Silver. A presumable ex-Team Rocket member had dropped his jaw upon Silver's appearance, but there was no waiting period or grace of response: Silver's Alakazam used Psychic to pick the man up and throw him out of sight, to which Ash winced.

"Watch your manhandling," Misty scolded, having to jump out of the way. In the brief moment she was distracted, her Starmie was knocked out by a Galvantula, and she whipped her head forward again before calling him back and summoning her Golduck.

Lance and Adalet were not far behind Ash. Lance's Aerodactyl sank a Thunder Fang into a Walrein, and Adalet's Raichu had knocked out a Ludicolo with a Mega Punch.

"We're losing ground," Ash heard Adalet announce to Lance.

"You don't need to tell me," Lance snapped back.

"Lance!" A third voice—Solidad's—entered the equation. A Pidgeot flew over Ash's head, sweeping down briefly to peck at an enemy Raticate, before waiting for his trainer to catch up. Lance turned, and Ash realized he would need to take his place in order for Solidad to deliver whatever news she brought. Ash stepped into place and ordered a Razor Leaf against the same Walrein.

"What is it?" Lance demanded. "You should be at the Battle Pyramid."

"No one was responding to my calls," Solidad panted. "You can't hear me among all—this!" She shook her head, realizing she was wasting time, and said, "Lance, Wallace called me. Something happened—there are infected Pokémon running loose in the castle."

"_What?_" Lance stumbled, as did Ash. He briefly lost himself, glancing at her with wide eyes, before Walrein charged toward Bayleef. She luckily had the sense to dodge, and Ash jerked his attention back to the battle.

"That's what I was told," Solidad pressed, and Lance let out a growl and turned away. He wrested the battle back from Ash, ordering a Crunch against the Walrein.

"I don't know what you expect me to do," he said. "Find Leaf, or Paul, or Iris. They were the ones planning on breaking the line and entering the castle, not me. I have to hold the ground here."

Ash stood motionless for a moment, staring at them, and then looking around to see his comrades: Misty and Silver were closest to him, but his visions extended beyond that, to Ritchie and Sparky battling through exhaustion against an enormous Salamence, to Cilan desperately try to break through a swarm of Team Plasma grunts, to Leaf and Paul fighting side-by-side in a rare and powerful partnership, to Iris sprinting up endless flights of velvet stairs with equally endless determination, to Trip in pursuit of a dangerous enemy before it could bring harm to the imminent descent of friends into his vicinity, to Dawn grasping for stability while those around her fell into fractions, to May trapped and awaiting peril in herself and outside her door, to Clemont and Serena reaching for their Pokémon in a final stand against an adversary that wasn't their own.

An utter sense of helplessness suddenly overcame Ash; he wanted so much to do something, and he wished there was some genuine reserve of power in himself that he could call upon to save them, the kind of power people fantasized he had, but there was nothing.

While lost in this surreal graying world, a Braviary swept down, its talon catching him on the back of the head, slicing it open, and knocking him down on the ground. Pikachu and Bayleef both cried out, and Pikachu tried to hit the Braviary with a Thunderbolt but missed. Ash briefly blacked out—and in that moment, his anxieties melted into dark reassurances that all would be well.

He came back around to loud, worried repetitions of his name and found himself in Misty's arms with Pikachu nuzzled up to his cheek and Silver and Bayleef hovering nearby.

"Did you feel that?" was the first question Silver asked—not "How are you doing?" or "Are you okay?"—and Misty cast him an estranged, half-angry look. Ash didn't respond initially, only looking dazed, and Misty sucked in her breath.

"We need help!" she cried out, hoping to gain some ally's attention, but Ash grabbed her wrist suddenly.

"It's okay," he assured her. "Help is coming."

She didn't understand, and that compounded her fear that he was concussed. Noticing that several Plasmas and their Pokémon were closing in on them, Silver rose to his feet and called his Feraligatr to his side. Pikachu also leap to his feet, prepared to defend his trainer. A Sawsbuck charged first with Double-Edge, but Feraligatr grabbed it by the horns and tossed it aside with Strength. Pikachu, meanwhile, warded off a Scrafty with an Electro Ball while Bayleef hit a Rhyhorn with Magical Leaf. Yet, these were only three Pokémon, and soon there were nine, leaving Pikachu, Feraligatr, and Bayleef hopelessly overwhelmed.

Misty, her arm still under Ash's bloodied head, pulled out an additional Pokéball to fight, too, and Silver ordered Feraligatr to use Surf in the hope it could wipe out several enemies at once. Still, the Plasma agents were advancing on their vulnerabilities fast, and it was all but a lost battle. Then came the help.

The circle of Plasmas and enemy Pokémon surrounding Ash and company—a circle consisting of at least twenty bodies—suddenly glowed blue and were lifted several feet into the air before being tossed aside like old rags.

"Took him long enough," Silver muttered as Mewtwo swept into view and over the crowd. The changing tide had come; the Psychic-type addressed the congestion at the door next, violently clearing the way, allowing Cilan—and others—to finally break through as Iris had before.

"Ash, now is our chance." Silver whipped his head toward his brother.

His imploration finally brought some sense back to Ash, who abruptly sat up and staggered to his feet. "There are infected Pokémon in there!" he warned. "I heard it from Solidad. The people running in there—they don't know!"

"Well, now we do," Silver shot back.

Ash raised a hand to the back of his head, wondering how deep the cut was. It stung, and it was still warm with blood, but he only felt _a little _lightheaded, but half of that might have been from the adrenaline—or, perhaps the adrenaline was the only thing keeping him standing.

"Ash, you _need _medical attention," Misty told him.

Ash pursed his lips, returned Bayleef, and called Pikachu to his shoulder again. For a moment, Misty believed he would actually listen to her, but then he turned and said, "I'll be fine, Mist'. Someone's gotta warn the others."

"_Ash_—" Misty hissed.

"It's fine!" Ash insisted. "I'll be fine. Come on, Silver!" Silver nodded, and the two took off together as the battle raged on under Mewtwo's fist, and Misty stared after them disbelievingly before calling out her Golduck again to take on a Krookodile.

Inside, Ash paused only long enough to catch his breath. He glanced to the left, straining his ears, then said, "I think I hear Cilan's voice that way. We should go there and warn them!"

Silver, whose gaze was full of some strange, acute awareness, ignored this however, and pointed in the opposite direction. "We go this way!"

"That—?!" Before Ash could protest, Silver had already taken off, and Ash and Pikachu could only follow.

* * *

Barely two minutes after crossing the threshold into the Plasma base, Georgia's Beartic stumbled and fell forward to his knees in total exhaustion. Georgia spun on her heel with a gasp and fell beside him, cradling his head in her arms. Her company—a short list comprising only Burgundy, Chili, and Cilan—stopped too. The unexpected arrival of Mewtwo had provided a wider window of entry into N's castle, and Cilan had finally managed to push his way inside, bringing with him the small battalion.

"Beartic, you were amazing," Georgia said, raising his Pokéball and calling him inside. "Take a good long rest for now." She stowed the Pokéball away and looked up at Cilan. "So where to?"

He sucked in his breath.

"I don't know where Iris is," he said.

"Iris?" Burgundy perked up.

"She and N broke through the ranks before anyone else," Cilan explained.

Georgia appeared oddly annoyed at this said, with an edge, said, "Well, trust that Iris knows what she's doing, and we'll figure out what we're doing." Cilan was briefly taken aback, but no chance to respond was given. A harrowing bawl rang through the hallway, and it was followed by the sound of hooves. A Flaaffy with paling pink skin and disintegrating wool rounded the corner and galloped toward the group.

Chili's hand flew immediately to call out his Heatmor, but as the Flaaffy leapt, great vines burst from the ground, tearing through the rug, and wrapped around the Electric-type. Flaaffy bawled again just before it was thrown into the wall, knocking it out-cold. The vines rescinded, and the party looked ahead to see Trip and his Serperior.

"There are infected Pokémon in the building," Trip said with loud, heavy breaths.

"No shit," Georgia shot back. He didn't reply; he leaned against the wall to catch his breath and wipe the perspiration from his forehead. Georgia's attitude changed, and she approached him with greater concern.

"Are you OK?" she asked.

"I've been playing 'Chu-and-Meowth with that Flaaffy for an hour," Trip panted. "They're not supposed to be that _fast._"

"Well, that's the Pokérus for you right there," Chili said.

Trip again didn't respond. Burgundy scoured through her bag for a small water bottle, and he accepted it while mumbling a thanks. As soon as he had rehydrated himself, he looked up at the others and asked, "Has anyone found May?"

"We don't know." Cilan shook his head.

"She wanted to find me," Trip said. His eyes flicked cautiously over toward the Flaaffy, who was still passed out, and whom they hoped would remain in that condition. "That—" He pointed. "—was how I knew."

"Then it sounds like we're heading down to the first floor," Chili said, turning toward Cilan. He then looked to Trip again and asked, "You up for it?"

"Yeah." Trip wiped his mouth and straightened up. "Let's go."

They started off again, but Cilan had evident hesitancy in every step. He glanced behind him with worry creased in his face, and Georgia quickly noticed he was lagging and grabbed his wrist.

"Cilan, she'll be fine," she told him. "Come on."

* * *

In a brief moment of repose, Leaf sank against the wall beside one of the curtained windows inside the mansion. Her breathing was labored, and she pressed her hands to her eyes, shaking slightly. Stopping to recuperate was necessary _physically_, but battle was the sole distraction keeping from emotionally falling apart, and Paul quickly recognized that. He took in a few hard breaths, watching her, and glanced at the window. The natural-like lighting briefly intrigued him, and he pushed aside a corner of the curtain before making a disgusted noise and letting fall again.

"What's the plan?" he asked Leaf. She was silent for a moment, still regathering herself.

"Team Plasma leaders were noticeably missing in the garage, which means they're in here," she said. "We need to get them. An order without its leaders is nothing."

"Couldn't agree more." Leaf and Paul's heads shot up. A slightly disheveled Eiljah Colress was cantering down the hallway toward them at a slow, easy pace. "It perfectly explains why the G-Men has gone to pieces since Lance and Cynthia left."

"Colress!" Leaf sprang to her feet and called out her Venesaur. Paul was on her heels with Aggron. Elijah stopped, but his eerily pleasant expression did not break. His hands were folded behind his back, inciting the worst of Leaf and Paul's suspicions, but the Team Plasma elite made no sudden movements that would call for drastic measures.

"Now, now," Elijah tutted. "How is this at all fair? Two against one? That's against the League rules, isn't it?"

"We've been fighting two on six for the past hour," Paul dismissed. "I think we deserve an easy charge."

Elijah stared, then smiled in an oddly satisfied sort of way. He turned to his side, revealing he was hiding nothing behind him. Not a Pokéball, not a weapon, nothing—only an injured hand wrapped in gauze.

"I'm not going to battle you," he decided, catching the two by surprise.

"What?" Leaf demanded, her voice a mix of confusion and indignation.

"Let's talk, like adults," Colress suggested.

"I'm not interested in anything you have to say," Leaf scoffed.

"Neither am I," Paul added with equal contempt.

"And that is the mark of a couple of children—not leaders." The calm façade shattered, as a monstrous fury crossed Colress's expression. It alone was enough to draw growl from Venesaur and for Aggron to clench readied fists; yet, the pieces eventually reformed, and Colress continued pleasantly again, "It seems you are acting under passion rather than rational thought. It makes sense, of course. You—" His eyes settled on Paul first. "—you've lost your dear Pokémon partner. There are many parties whom you can fault for this, yourself included, but revenge is sweet. And as for you, Ms. Greene..." His gaze fell upon her next, and her eyes hardened. "Your eyes are still swollen. The G-Men wouldn't come here unprepared, as you clearly are, unless there was something pressing on you—like the death of a loved one?"

"Shut up!" Leaf viciously snarled; her voice tore and revealed a sliver of vulnerability, confirming Colress's beliefs, and he laughed.

"I thought so," he said. "It truly is no wonder the G-Men is falling apart at the seams with you two and Iris at the helm. There must be something to your credit, though. It should have been _so easy _to topple over your selective oligarchy. It's been weakening year by year, and Team Plasma certainly got closer than Team Rocket in your deposition."

Leaf and Paul were both puzzled by his words, and the careful expressions they shared with each other conveyed such.

"Our deposition?" Paul asked cautiously, though gruffly. "I thought Team Plasma's goal was Pokémon liberation."

"Then you have failed to grasp the nuances of our plans," Elijah chastised. "Pokémon liberation made for a nice slogan, but no one wants to _give up_ power—it's partially why the G-Men and League are such a wreck—and Pokémon offer power."

"Right, of course," Paul shot back. "So the plan was to murder Iris under the guise of Pokémon liberation and take over Unova."

"Nuances," Elijah repeated with a click of his tongue. "No, it was much more complicated than that." He then held up a single, patronizing finger and began, "Step one: Send a martyr to purposefully miss the shot on Iris Ajagara, undermining her authority and scaring her." A second finger. "Step two: Coerce the frightened Ajagara into funding our vague research project under the guise it will help build her reputation." A third. "Step three: Steal an ancient Pokémon carrying a deadly virus and start an epidemic in Unova, further damaging Iris's reputation, while using her money to create a treatment for the virus." Finally, a fourth finger. "Step four: Raise anger against the corruption of the G-Men and incompetence of their leaders, and with it, sweep Iris out of office and replace her, to the cheers of a population hungry for a political revolution, with N, the pure-hearted puppet of Ghetsis."

"But your plan didn't work," Leaf pointed out, her brow lowering and her fists clenching.

"No, it didn't," Colress agreed. "You adapted. We adapted. Regardless, we were similarly hubristic in our grab for control, and the house of cards has fallen."

"You're admitting defeat then," Leaf said.

"I am," Colress affirmed, but then he smiled and, inclining his head toward them, asked, "Have you?" Leaf and Paul were unmoved. Colress sighed and straightened up again, continuing, "I wish I could say it was a well-played game. Failure, perhaps, would sting less then. I had hoped that perhaps I might be able to sway you into the belief that I could be of assistance to you, but one of your rats found my journal, and so I have nothing to offer—only vindication to seek. So, two bastions of power will fall today, and such will bring me a measure of satisfaction and relieve the burn."

Leaf drew in a sudden, sharp breath. She whipped her head toward Paul, demanding, "Paul, where's Iris?" He looked at her with a similar wide-eyed expression as the same realization dawned upon him, and Colress started laughing. Infuriated, Leaf pivoted toward him again.

"Venesaur—!" she started, raising the hand which donned her Key Stone, but Paul grabbed her wrist.

"Stop!" he said firmly. "You're better than that."

Leaf sucked in her breath and wrested her hand away, but ceased the command. A sudden voice calling out their names—"Paul! Leaf!"—caused the two to turn quickly and see that the fraction of May's rescue team that managed to escape the ballroom was running toward them. Dawn had been the one to yell out their names.

"Ah, so the cavalry has arrived," Colress said as though he were amused.

Leaf broke rank first and ran toward one of N's sisters, grabbing her by the shoulders. "Anthea!" she began desperately. "Anthea, where would your father be?"

Anthea appeared shocked—perhaps even scared—at this sudden request. "My father... ?" she started.

"The throne room at the top, I imagine," Concordia answered instead.

"Leaf, what's happening?" Kenny asked worriedly. He glanced over her shoulder and saw Colress standing down the way. He and other instinctively began to reach for their Pokéballs.

Leaf didn't answer. She returned her Venesaur and blew past the group, yelling to Wallace "He's all yours!" as she sprinted away to find stairs. Wallace appeared alarmed but quickly regathered himself as he set his sight on Colress, who stiffened in response. Paul called back his Aggron and was about to follow Leaf, but he changed his mind at the last moment, and he stumbled slightly before grasping Dawn by her arms and spinning her toward him.

"Dawn," he started seriously. "Listen closely—I need you to do something for me. I need you to find something that will prove Ghetsis's deception to N and that we—that Iris—are the people he needs to trust."

"What?" Dawn looked incredulous. "The infected Pokémon aren't enough? This entire castle—"

"You have to figure it out," Paul pressed. "For me, please." That was enough. Dawn sucked in her breath and nodded.

"I'll try," she agreed. Paul broke away from her then with an appreciative bow of his head before taking off after Leaf.

"Something that will prove N needs to trust Iris?" Serena repeated as soon as he left. She perked up and turned excitedly toward Dawn. "I have an idea."

Paul soon caught up with Leaf, and as soon he matched her stride, she breathlessly borrowed Colress's own words, saying "We adapted, so they adapted. They know they're going down, and they're going to try to bring us down with them."

"Iris has N with her," Paul reminded her.

"And?" Leaf raised an eyebrow.

"Colress might say otherwise, but they haven't given up yet," Paul said.

* * *

The final flight of stairs let directly to a set of stone white doors that extended at least ten feet above Iris's head. She slowed to a walk following her sprint to take in the grandiose entrance, and N stopped behind her. A brief sting on anxiety caused her chest to swell, and she glance at N, asking, "Is this it?"

He nodded. Iris laid her hands against the door then, prepared to push them open, but then she closed her eyes, groping for her sense of determination again. She found it and entered the darkness with N on her heels. The total lack of light struck Iris with uncertainty, and for a moment, she wondered if N was mistaken and Ghetsis wasn't there at all. Then, the false white lighting permeating the rest of the castle flicked on, and Iris and N both winced and found themselves blinking away spots from their eyes.

"Iris Ajagara." Iris snapped her head forward to see an aged male with thinning, graying green hair sitting atop a golden throne at the end of the hall. A Confagrigus hovered above him to his left while a Hydreigon curled around the right side of the throne, and one of the heads lay across Ghetsis's lap. "So we finally meet." Iris lowered the hand that had automatically risen to shield her eyes when the lights came on, revealing her scorn.

"Then you must be Ghetsis," she said. She started advancing toward him, but N stayed rooted near the entrance.

"Indeed." Ghetsis smiled. "Such a pleasure. You've been the primary focus of my attention for months, and yet, I never had the chance to speak with you myself. The honor belonged to Colress."

"Well, that's how you operate, isn't it?" Iris asked, shrugging with her hands. "You just get other people do your work for you while you reap the benefits."

Ghetsis ignored her then. He looked over her head at his son, remarking, "N, you're awfully quiet."

"I have a lot of questions for you father." N stepped forward once then. "I saw what Colress was doing to those Pokémon."

"Ghetsis, I was talking to you," Iris broke in suddenly, annoyed he had brushed her off. "You're a coward. You're sitting up here in this—" She paused, glancing around the room as if she could find an answer in it, but she ended up supplying a invisible noun with her hand. "—and, meanwhile, your followers and their innocent Pokémon are downstairs in battle."

"A conflict you created," Ghetsis said, sounding equally annoyed at her interruption. "Perhaps your indignation wouldn't seem so hollow were you not the instigator and if you hadn't abandoned your own followers to see me in this room. Are you any less a coward?"

"I'm here to make you answer for what you did to Unova," Iris correct, pressing an impassioned hand to her chest. She then reached for a Pokéball, enlarging it. "Go, Haxorus!"

The Dragon-type emerged with a roar. Iris widened her stance, expecting for the battle to start immediately. Yet, neither Ghetsis's Confagrigus nor his Hydreigon moved, and Ghetsis himself made no motion to give an order. He merely sighed and rested his hand on a closed fist.

"Do you see this, N?" he said, again speaking over Iris's head. "It's just as I told you. The G-Men use Pokémon to advance their own interests."

Iris looked at him incredulously and then back at N, who appeared wary—of him. Feeling reaffirmed, Iris faced forward again.

"Our interests are putting an end to the virus Team Plasma _purposefully_ spread," she said. "N knows that."

"She's worse of a liar than I believed." Ghetsis shook his head, now speaking as if Iris wasn't there at all. "N, didn't she tell you? We have no cure for the virus here. They figured that out this afternoon, but it was no matter. Their true purpose for being here is their sense of bloodlust, and all their Pokémon? They're paying for it. Team Plasma's Pokémon, too, in order to defend ourselves."

Iris mentally stumbled, and she whipped her head back toward N again.

"N—" she started.

"... Is that true?" he cut her off. His suspicions had shifted to her, and Iris felt her mouth run dry.

"Team Plasma is still responsible for the harm they've brought to so many people and Pokémon," she said weakly.

"She's avoiding the question," Ghetsis interjected.

"She has a point," N retorted, moving up so he stood beside Iris again, bringing her a temporary sense of relief. "You are not blameless."

"I am. Team Plasma is. Colress is not," Ghetsis skillfully corrected. "He will be dismissed following the resolution of this little situation. Like you, I discovered an upsetting truth about Colress: He's a self-motivated traitor. He was planning on appealing to join the G-Men and assist them in maintaining their dominance over Napaj and all its Pokémon."

Iris's stability fell away again, and she said, with a growing desperation, "N, he's lying."

"On what basis do you claim that?" Ghetsis, meanwhile, remained completely calm. "I think you would find if you spoke to Colress yourself, he would admit to such." Iris heard N's breath turn shallow, and she saw the growing distrust in his eyes when he glanced at her. Ghetsis continued, "Really, think about it, N: What purpose would infecting Pokémon with a terrible scourge serve us, a humble organization which seeks to liberate Pokémon?"

"It's because Pokémon liberation isn't your real purpose!" Iris fought back.

"A lie," Ghetsis hissed.

"N, he's just trying to manipulate you like he's done all your life," Iris appealed to him again, but by then, N had withdrawn from her, and there was nothing she could say to get him back.

"Have I ever been anything less than good to you, N?" Ghetsis asked gently.

Silence. N's gaze was lowered to the ground, and Iris repeated his name with an equal gentleness, but he waved her off. He then looked straight ahead again and said, "You have been good to me."

Iris's throat tightened, and Ghetsis smiled again.

"Come here, my son," he said, standing and extending his arms toward him. N moved forward and Iris watched, mortified. Ghetsis pulled N into an embrace that was reciprocated with hesitation before moving N aside and looking down at Iris again. Their eyes remained connected for several wordless seconds, as Iris had nothing she could say.

Ghetsis flicked his head toward Hydreigon first. "Protect," he ordered. N and Iris both were alarmed when a translucent, protective shield surrounded the throne. Ghetsis looked toward Confagrigus next, saying, "Psychic." The stone blockade fell across the door, trapping Iris; she pivoted toward it briefly as dread flooded her conscience, then spun forward again when two dark portals orchestrated by Confagrigus opened and an infected Delcatty and Watchog fell through.

Each had a rope tied around their muzzles, but with a snap of Ghetsis's fingers, Confagrigus used Psychic again, and they came undone.

* * *

"We don't get paid nearly enough to risk getting bitten by one of these infected monsters," Annie growled through gritted teeth, her palms burning as the rope tied to the snout of a Mightyena—the same Mightyena which had attacked May and her rescue tem—slid through her hands as he resisted being pulled down the hallway.

"Its limbs are still stiff; it will be fine," Oakley dismissed. "That Maple girl ended up saving us a lot of work."

Annie was no less miffed, and she added in a grumble, "Iris has probably already made it to the throne room. Getting this Mightyena there would be a bit late."

"Ghetsis wanted three." Oakley refused to cede to her sister's complaints. "One for each."

Annie was about to retort, but she stopped suddenly when she heard voices around the corner. Oakley heard them too, and she pricked up in alarm—which transformed to intrigue when one, she realized, sounded vaguely familiar. Annie tightened her grip on the rope to and moved cautiously behind Oakley as they turned to see _two_ familiar faces, one backed against a wall with a bloodied head and the other hovering over him with uncertainty in his expression.

"Maybe you need to stay here," Silver said hesitantly, but with what sounded like genuine concern. Pikachu made a noise of agreement, touching his trainer's knee.

"No, no..." Ash shook his head. "I gotta come... I gotta help..."

"Well, what a nice surprise," Oakley began glowingly, and Silver and Ash jerked their heads toward the sisters. "Kamon, it's been too long."

Silver smirked in response and straightened up. "I was hoping I'd run into you two," he said. Ash cast Silver an estranged, disbelieving look, as if he was seeing someone entirely different for the first time.

"Into them... ?" he mumbled as he struggled to stand.

"Well, we're glad you did," Oakley said. "We'll finally get to finish what should have been done a long, long time ago—and in the best way possible." She spun toward her sister. "Cut the rope, Annie."

Annie reeled back in surprise.

"But—"

"—Cut it!" Oakley ordered again, and Annie frowned and begrudgingly pulled out a pocket knife before slashing the rope off Mightyena's snout. She and Oakley immediately jumped back several feet as the Mightyena roared. Despite its still-stiffened limbs, it locked its sight on Silver, and managed to bow just low enough for a short but deadly jump forward.

"Pikachu, use Thunderbolt!" Ash ordered, and the attack caught Mightyena just before he could reach Silver. The Dark-type fell forward, and Pikachu's tail then shimmered with Iron Tail. The small Pokémon swung its weight around and landed a hit directly under Mightyena's jaw, sending him back toward Annie and Oakley. Silver smirked again and pulled out a Pokéball.

"Come out, Feraligatr, and use slash!" Feraligatr did not hesitate to obey, raising its claws to strike—but Ash quickly realized the blow was not intended for Mightyena, but rather Oakley, and Ash scrambled to his feet.

"Pikachu, Thunderbolt again!" he called out. In another situation, Pikachu might have hesitated to inflict damage against an ally, but the tone of his trainer's voice stripped him of any personal hesitations, and Feraligatr cried out as it was consumed with white lightening.

"Ash?!" Silver exclaimed, spinning toward his brother in shock. Ash managed to straighten himself up, but he felt lightheaded and stumbled slightly. The sisters looked on in shock, too, confused as to why he would save their lives—but their alarm changed focus when a third, though very different face, appeared around the corner ahead and rapidly flew toward them, stopping just short of them at Ash's side.

"Mewtwo!" Ash grinned at him. "Thanks for coming!"

Mewtwo didn't exhibit the same enthusiasm. He glanced dispassionately back at Ash, their gazes locking.

"_I had to set things right with you._"

Ash blinked and perked up, confused as to what he meant. A strange, tingling—almost cold—sensation suddenly moved up the back of Ash's head, and he winced, though it wasn't at all painful. He reached to touch it and realized the wound had sealed as if it had never been there at all. Mewtwo faced forward again, and then, there was a warm glow that burst through Ash's pocket. The trainer's breath caught as he reached inside and pulled out a small, unadorned Key Stone.

"Where did you get that?" Silver suddenly demanded in shock. "Why is it reacting?"

The answer came as Mewtwo's body was suddenly veiled in a brightening, multicolored light. All had to shield their eyes as the light reached a blinding point and then broke apart, revealing a transformed Mewtwo: He had lost his tail, but a long, curled appendage had sprung from the back of his head. His eyes had turned red, and his fingers and toes were now purple and bulbous.

"W-Wait!" Oakley fell back in horror. "He doesn't have a Mega Stone! How is this possible?!"

"Mewtwo..." Ash closed his fist around the Key Stone and then grinned. "All right, then let's set things right!"

_**July 20th, 2009. Afternoon. Opelucid City.**_

Gary held Bianca's Heart Scale in the palm of his hand, staring at its thin, vivid ripples that made up the geleanous substance beneath the flexible, though more resilient surface. His head was leaning against the window of a car, and he was starting to feel some serious motion sickness. His hand closed around the Heart Scale, and he sucked in his breath; that made him feel a little better.

Bianca slammed on the breaks as an upcoming light turned yellow, and Gary's stomach lurched. Bianca took the traffic stop as an opportunity to turn to the young ailing research and remind him, "Gary, I feel like this is a bad idea."

"You don't know what my idea is," Gary mumbled flatly, tiredly.

"It involved me breaking you out of a hospital!" Bianca was half-panicked by then. "It's a bad idea!" Regardless, when the light turned green again, Bianca pressed down on the gas pedal once more, and the car darted forward at a speed far too high for a community street. They turned the corner, and Bianca pulled into the Opelucid Pokémon Center and performed a messy park job in front of the entrance doors.

As soon as she turned off the engine, Gary opened up the car door—and fell out, collapsing against the pavement. Bianca yelped and ran around the front end of the vehicle and picked him up, hoisting him against the shoulder. With her support, they muddled their way through the entrance doors and then into the back end of the center, where the research team was still at work. Everything came to a screeching halt though the moment Bianca walked in with Gary looking as though he were on the brink of death.

"Gary?!" His grandfather immediately dropped what he was doing and hurried over to him, grasping him by the shoulders. "Gary, you should be at the hospital!"

Gary shook his head.

"I need to see the Lopunny that infected me _now_," he said hoarsely, adding some emphasis for sincerity.

"Gary—" Brock started worriedly.

"_Now_," Gary repeated more firmly.

They stared at him wide-eyed for a moment, paralyzed, but Aurea Juniper found herself nodding and she gestured for them to follow her. Bill came to help Bianca move him to a tall, specially-made cage Clemont had spent several days building. It was tall and wide, and Lopunny sat inside, shaking and foaming at the mouth. Gary was unafraid, however, and he pushed himself away from Bianca and Bill and fell forward against the sturdy encasement. Lopunny spun to face him, making a horrible shrieking noise that caused everyone—except Gary—to wince.

"This isn't you," Gary started as soon as her screech subsided. "You're not this."

Gary then revealed the Heart Scale in his hand and pressed it firmly against the door. Lopunny recoiled back; the foam fell away, and she looked notably less rabid.

"You know, for so long I was angry," Gary went on, almost sounding ashamed. "I pitied myself, and I barely thought about you. I'm sorry."

He opened the door to several frightened and appalled shrieks of "What are you doing?!" and "Gary, don't!" from his colleagues. Yet, he held the Heart Scale in his palm again and slid his hand inside, to which Lopunny panicked and bit down—hard. Gary winced, and the blood started to run, but he didn't scream, and he didn't attempt to pull his hand away.

They waited there. Her grip suddenly loosened, and her teeth fell away from his hand. Among the run of blood from Gary's hands were several thin whips of color—the gelatinous substance of the Heart Scale, which Lopunny had punctured. Gary smiled warmly.

"Let's start over," he said, and Lopunny became encased in light.

_**July 20th, 2009. Afternoon. Somewhere in Unova.**_

"Okay—" Barry fumbled for the right words as he held open an invisible book. He stood before May and Drew, whose hands were clasped in a nervous and macabre sort of anticipation. May's hand had been clutched against her shoulder still, but Drew pulled it off and held it firmly, paying no mind to the cooling, damp blood that caked it. She smiled at him weakly.

"So we're all gathered here today, in this storage closet, to see the joining of a couple that literally should have gotten married like three years ago," Barry finally began. "But better late than never, right?"

Drew gave Barry an exasperated look, and May let out a small, withered laugh. Even in their bleak situation—trapped in a closet, May bleeding at the arm, with a Camerupt knocking on their door—Barry still managed to bring an energizing sense of humor. Before the makeshift ceremony could proceed any further, however, Bonnie suddenly waved her hands and cried, "Wait!"

Barry glowered at her and clapped his hands together as if to close his book.

"Excuse me," he said. "I'm going to have to fine you for interrupting a nice wedding service."

"You can't get married yet," Bonnie went on, ignoring Barry as she turned to Drew. "You have to propose first."

Drew looked incredulous.

"I don't have the ring," he said.

"The ring?" May blinked and then pulled Drew's eyes back to her. "You bought a ring?"

"When he said he was planning on asking you to marry him, he was serious," Max informed her. "I have the ring." The news that Drew had actually gone as far to purchase an engagement ring and that even Max _knew_ about it was a little dizzying for May, and suddenly, she felt very sad.

"Oh, good!" Bonnie beamed. "Give it here!"

"Not _on_ me!" Max corrected, and Bonnie huffed. She pulled her bag over her shoulder and started rummaging through it. She pulled out silver-band ring that Drew took for one the novelty mood-changing jewelry pieces thanks to its multicolored gem.

"Well, regardless—" Bonnie faced Drew again, holding the ring out to Drew. "—you still have to ask her to marry you first."

"I did," Drew said flatly.

"In the worst roundabout way ever," Bonnie scoffed, pushing the ring toward him more forcefully. "Do it for real."

Camerupt had rammed the door again, and the splintered break down the middle was becoming more pronounced. Time was pressing against them, and Drew could have pointed out that all this extra pomp and circumstance would squander these last precious few minutes. However, he figured arguing against it would be the lengthier choice, and so he sighed, and with a tired, resigned smile, took Bonnie's ring and grasped May's hands again.

"May," he said seriously, holding the ring out to her. "Will you marry me?"

She started to smile, too.

"Ye—"

"—No!" Bonnie cut in shrilly. "Don't accept that May. He didn't even get on his knee. He didn't even say anything nice about you beforehand." She turned to Drew once more, instructing him, "You've got to have a proposal speech."

By that time, Drew was beyond exasperated and looked rather annoyed. He opened his mouth to protest, but stopped short when May spoke first.

"I'd like to hear a speech," she said quietly, a little shyly even.

"I'd like to see you get on one knee," Max added with a half-hearted smirk, and Barry nodded decisively, agreeing. Drew stared and almost became embarrassed, but seeing May's imploring gaze was enough to convince him. He sank to one knee.

"May," he began gravely, and her chest tightened at the sound of his voice alone. "When I first met you, I had no idea how much you were going to change my life. I grew up not knowing what it was like to be loved and appreciated, but you gave those things to me and so much more." May's breath had caught in her throat, and she thought she might cry. "You inspired me. You made me want to be a better person. You held me up during some of the hardest times in my life. I know I've fallen short in all regards when it comes to you, and I'm sorry we won't have the time for me to make it up to you—but I hope that the promise that I will love you for as long as I live will make up for a fraction of it. So will you marry me?"

May was crying by then. But, she swallowed, managed a smile, and stammered out a "Y-Yes."

He stood, slipped the ring onto her finger, and embraced her, and the moment was sobering for all the witnesses. Bonnie's eyes were glossy, and Barry had lost the animation that had buoyed them only minutes earlier. Max couldn't even look at his sister and Drew.

May and Drew pulled apart, and Bonnie quietly sniffed, "Okay. Now you can proceed."

Barry moved forward and opened his invisible book again.

"Drew," he started, now far more serious, "do you take May to be your wife, to love her, to comfort her, to protect her, to care for her in both sickness and in health, until—" He stopped and stumbled for a moment, grasping for an appropriate substitute. "—u-until the end of all time?"

"I do," Drew said firmly, his eyes locked with May's.

"And May." Barry turned to her next. "Do you take Drew to be your husband, to love him, to comfort him, to protect him, in both sickness and health until the end of all time?"

"I-I do," she answered.

"Then I now pronounce you husband and wife," Barry declared. "You may kiss the bride."

His arms wound around her waist as hers did around his neck, and they were locked together. The kiss was slow, long, and deeply intimate. It surpassed any kiss that had been shared between them before, to where all parties felt compelled to look away; and yet, at the same time, it was their most miserable kiss yet.

"Drew," May started after breaking apart. "I need you to do something for me." He didn't speak, but his look was enough to implore her continue. She cupped the side of his face with her unbloodied hand and said, "When that door comes down, Blaziken and I are going to draw that Camerupt in here. I need you, and Max, and Barry, and Bonnie to get out."

The request startled all in the room, not just Drew.

"What?" Drew blustered. "N-No, I won't. Its anger has been mounting, and it will erupt the moment it gets in here."

"I know, and I'm OK with that," May assured him. He still shook his head, and she more firmly grasped his face, saying, "I just promised to protect you. Please, let me give some meaning to what's happened to me."

A tense silence followed, and Drew still did not want to move. Yet, May's intense, fiery blue gaze pushed him off her, and there formed a divide between her and him, Barry, Max, and Bonnie. Camerupt rammed into the door, and the split was almost complete.

"Tell Mom and Dad I love them, OK?" she told Max as she pulled out a Pokéball and released Blaziken from inside. It was then that they actually the bite wound on his upper thigh.

"May, I—" Max started, wanting to protest in the same way Drew had, but a final charge against the door finally broke it to pieces and knocked over the filing cabinet. It stumbled over the cabinet, giving just enough of a window for the others to escape as it tried to rush May.

"Drew!" Cilan's voice called out to him, seeing their group flee the closet just as his was entering the ballroom. Drew only spun on his heel though and called for May instead as a bright and hot light burst from the broken doorway. Horror fell across their faces—until Camerupt was thrown out of the aurora on its back, and when the light faded, Blaziken—a very different-looking Blaziken—advanced from the doorway with a stunned and very much alive May in tow.

"That's Blaziken's Mega Evolved form," Trip breathed. "H-How is that possible?"

* * *

The garage battle was nearing its end, but Dawn and her companions couldn't have said such. It was their first time seeing the conflict, and it was every bit as vicious, every bit as violent, as it was an hour earlier—except now it was the G-Men marching toward victory. Dawn stalled for only an instant, rattled by the scene, but she quickly regained her sense and dove into the action.

"We have to find Cynthia!" Dawn said, raising her voice loud enough so the others could hear her.

"Should we split up?" Zoey suggested at an equally strong volume.

"No." Dawn vigorously shook her head. "Just do your best to stay with me. Then we can—" She stopped short, yelping as the careless swing of a Honedge's blade barely missed her. She stopped with a heavy, relieved breath, then looked around wildly, realizing the same swing had sent Zoey in different direction. Her friend was nowhere to be found, and she only had Kenny, Serena, and Clemont, who was struggling to keep up, with her now.

Dawn was prepared to call Zoey's name when she saw a flash of long blonde hair, and there she found Cynthia fighting against a Golem with her Lucario.

"There she is!" Dawn cried out before darting ahead. "Cynthia!" She ducked and slid between a warring Nidoking and and Magmar, which ended up losing the rest of her companions, but Dawn couldn't afford to lose sight of the former Sinnoh Champion. Dawn had to call her name again before Cynthia perked up with the realization that she was wanted.

"Dawn?" Cynthia asked, turning to the younger woman. "What's the matter? What's happened?"

"I need—" Dawn stopped, suddenly realizing the gravity of her request. "This is a lot to ask: I need to borrow Garchomp and his Mega Stone."

Cynthia's expression contorted into confusion.

"For what?"

"It's hard to explain," Dawn started. "Paul—" She never finished. Cynthia pivoted suddenly toward a persian and ordered he use Close Combat. Then, in a sliver of time that she could afford to turn her attention away from the battle, Cynthia pulled Garchomp's Pokéball from her waist and pressed it into Dawn's hand.

"I trust you and Paul," she said simply. "Garchomp is wearing the Mega Stone already."

Dawn nodded and thanked her, but Cynthia had nothing further to say as she and Lucario took on a second enemy. Dawn turned back to back to find her companions and saw that Serena had found her again first and was running toward her.

"Serena, are you sure this will work?" Dawn asked.

"No," Serena answered honestly, wiping perspiration away from her forehead. "But it's the best idea I've got." They were on their way back toward the door by then, and they would pick up any friends they saw along the way—but this was first priority.

"I thought Mega Evolution required the trainer and Pokémon to have a close bond," Dawn said. "This is Cynthia's Pokémon."

"Iris can read the hearts of dragons, right?" Serena reasoned back. "If she can connect that well with a Pokémon, a Dragon-type no less, then that will be enough. She's a Champion, so maybe she could Mega Evolve a Pokémon she's not supposed to be able to Mega Evolve."

Dawn frowned.

"Let's ho—" Her eyes were on Serena as she spoke, and so she missed the depression in the ground where a Pokémon battle had left a deep impact, and she ended up tripping, falling, and twisting her ankle. Cynthia's Garchomp fell out of her hand, and Dawn grabbed her ankle with a pained hiss.

"Dawn!" Serena worriedly fell to her side and then looked terrified upon realizing Garchomp was missing—until a hand extended his Pokéball toward the two women.

"I... got this..." Clemont said breathlessly, looking as if he were about to pass out. Dawn appeared relieved, but pushed the ball toward Serena.

"You go," Dawn said. "You get this to Iris."

"What about you?!" Serena asked.

"Don't worry," Dawn assured her. "Someone just needs to get that to her now."

* * *

The infected Delcatty and Watchog were approaching Iris at a menacing pace, lips curled into a snarl, scleras gleaming the unnatural purple under the equally unnatural lighting. Ghetsis still stood beside his son at the front of room, secure behind his Hydreigon's shield and amused by the Unova Champion's predicament. N, on the other hand, looked on in horror, but he could not—or was not willing to —find the words to put an end to the twisted juncture.

Iris had backed up several steps before sucking in a shaky breath and raising her Pokéball toward Haxorus.

"Return," she ordered, but Haxorus made a point to dodge the red beam of light. Iris appeared shocked and then upset. "Haxorus, I said return!" Haxorus again dodged.

"There, see?" Ghetsis mumbled to N. "Pokémon do not like being in Pokéballs. There's the proof right there."

Haxorus let out a long and pointed whine, and Iris suddenly straightened up. The Dragon-type then faced the infected again and lowered its back, as if ready to pounce, and Iris understood then. She put away his Pokéball.

"All right, if that's how you want it, then use Dragon Tail!" she commanded. The Delcatty hissed and leapt toward Haxorus first, and Haxorus swung its massive, glowing tail around and batted the Normal-type into a column. N let out an appalled gasp and pressed himself against the shield, and Ghetsis tutted, shaking his head.

"Such violence," he bemoaned.

Watchog attacked next, and Haxorus tried to hit it with Dual Chop under Iris's order, but Watchog dodged. The Delcatty, recovering, shook her injured head as if it were but a slight bump and then charged toward Haxorus. The Dragon-type was still trying to land a hit on the quick-footed Watchog and couldn't see the Delcatty coming; Iris gasped at this and dove in to stop the attack.

The Delcatty sank its teeth into Iris's arm, and as Iris tried to throw it off, the teeth dragged deeper into the skin and drew out some of her blood.

"Iris!" N cried out.

Haxorus, fearing for his trainer, spun his head toward her—and the brief moment of distraction was enough for Watchog to get its teeth into his shoulder. Then, that was it. Both of the infected Pokémon were jerked away from their respective victims by Confagrigus's Psychic and held in supension above them. Iris started to tear up—not for herself, but for the bite mark that was so visible on her Haxorus. She gestured for the Dragon-type to lower its head, and she embraced him tightly before looking more closely at the bite and gently running her fingers over it. Haxorus, meanwhile, licked at his trainer's wound.

"That certainly didn't take long at all!" Ghetsis laughed aloud. "It was inevitable, of course, but I expected greater resistance than that." He—and Iris and N—then perked up at hearing a commotion outside the throne doors: There were voices calling for Iris, and she immediately recognized them despite the muffled volume.

"_Iris! Iris, are you in there?_"

"Leaf, Paul!" Iris yelled back. "You have to go!"

"No, please, come in." Ghetsis rose his voice too, almost sounding gleeful, almost sounding like he had hoped they would come. The door shook then, and dust fell from the cracks that formed in the stone. One of their Pokémon was charging the door, and Ghetsis was willing to let this play out. He looked down upon Iris, upon her injury, with new disaffection.

"This is ultimately for the best," he said, deadpanning. "You were way in over your head, and Unova deserves better."

Iris glared back at him but said nothing. N was shaking.

"I'll give you two options." Ghetsis lifted two fingers for emphasis. "You may either surrender your throne here to N and die a quick, honorable death—" He lowered a finger. "—or you may continue to resist, and you will die a slow and painful one at the hands of the virus. Perhaps I'll give your fellow Champions the same options when they finally join us."

Iris's breath grew heavy, and she pressed a hand to her face to hide the tears that more poignantly stung. There were many thoughts that ran through her head as she closed her eyes, encasing her world in a sphere of darkness: She thought first of Gary and Leaf and the void that would forever exist in her life, then of Paul's Torterra and his trainer's complete unraveling at the loss; she thought of Burgundy dissolving in humiliation over the death of an innocent 13-year-old girl; she thought of Summer, and Anwir, and Adam, and dozens of other young and bright-eyed trainers and their Pokémon dead and dying, with no answer that could be given to the family they left behind; she thought of Ash seeing his own dreams fall to pieces when he, of all of them, would be the type of leader Napaj deserved; she thought of Cilan pressing his depressed head against her empty belly and the sacrifices he had made for her and, in consequence, made for Unova; she thought of the suffering and fear Unova, her home, had suffered under her hand, and she wouldn't stand for it a moment longer.

"I don't negotiate with selfish people who step on innocent people and Pokémon in their climb for power," Iris said in a low, warning voice as she rose to her feet again, looking Ghetsis directly in the eye. "Maybe Colress should have told you that."

Ghetsis appeared surprised by her tone, but the direct eye contact broke when the stone door fell to pieces. Leaf and Paul stood among the debris, the glow of their Key Stones—and the glow of their Pokémon's Mega Stones—cutting through the gray dust. Venesaur and Aggron, in their Mega forms, stood faithfully by their trainers' sides, having been the ones to take down the door. They were not alone: By then, Serena, though out of breath and nearing collapse, had made it to the top with Garchomp's Pokéball in hand.

N's eyes widened seeing Mega Venesaur and Aggron, never having seen such forms before. Serena sprang forward, running toward Iris.

"Iris!" she called out. "I have—"

Iris felt a warm vibration against her chest. She glanced down to see that her Key Stone was reacting—and she wasn't sure to what. Then she looked forward, and her breath caught: The wound on her Haxorus's shoulder was glowing the same as her Key Stone. Serena, also noticing this, stopped.

"Haxorus!" Iris called out with unrestrained thrill; Haxorus glanced back at her and made a permissive noise, so Iris let on a confident smile. "OK! So let's see what you're really made of then!"

The light trickled from Haxorus's wound into his veins, reaching every limb until he was entirely consumed by it. It split apart then, revealing his new form: He had grown nearly twice in size with thicker golden armor, and a new blade protruded from the top of his head as well from each arm. He roared then, and under Iris's command, charged toward the protective shield surrounding the throne and shattered it with a sweep of his left blade across the center. N and Ghetsis both fell back, and Confagrigus and Hydreigon were paralyzed with terror.

"What is this?" N whispered in awe. "I've never seen this before..." He managed to sit himself up, but he kept a careful distance. "This Pokémon... its heart truly resonated with Iris, and their connection... it brought out something greater in him, more powerful, more beautiful, more fulfilled..."

"N—" Ghetsis started, reaching for him, and N ripped his hand away.

"—Don't!" he burst out, and Ghetsis tensed. N's eyes were hard, and he added in a slow, cutting voice, "... Ghetsis."

And the day was won.

* * *

An hour later, all the major leaders of Team Plasma—Ghetsis, Colress, Annie, Oakley, among others—were in the G-Men's custody. N and his sisters had reunited, and everyone left them alone to speak and to wander the castle that had deluded them their entire lives and was now nothing more than a shattered illusion, a broken fantasy. Iris had no fear he would run—he had promised to see her again, and Ash apparently—and so she sat on the steps leading up to the throne with Haxorus, who had returned to his normal form, resting his head on her lap and Cilan holding carefully onto her injured arm.

He ran his fingers tenderly above the bite marks, not wanting to believe they were there, and Iris let him have this moment.

"What will happen?" Cilan finally asked in a quiet voice. Iris shook her head.

"I don't know," she said. "I barely knew what all that was." She grasped her Key Stone briefly and then let her hand fall to Haxorus's head. Cilan had not been a witness to her rising, but she had described it, and it seemed so fantastical that he could hardly believe it was real.

The throne room had become a gathering point. The Battle Pyramid was too far of a walk in the summer sun, and provisions were being brought up from Team Plasma's reserves, which Concordia had kindly pointed them toward. And it was the provisions where Ash was drawn first as he happily munched on a slice of wheat bread, occasionally sharing some with Pikachu. Misty's hands ran through the back of Ash's hair, incredulous that, for a second time, the wound was completely gone. And completely gone was also Mewtwo, who had disappeared just as quickly as he appeared.

Silver stood nearby, staring distantly at the different groups that were congregating in the room to lick their wounds. He saw the four-person Team Rocket bunch standing together, looking almost giddy, as if they had finally vindicated themselves. Dawn sat among her Sinnoan friends, her ankle now elevated and iced; Barry and Kenny were making jokes again, and Zoey was looking exasperated. May's arm, now also wrapped in gauze, was linked with Max's, and they were with Drew and Solidad. There was some secret the couple hadn't yet shared with the older woman—Silver didn't know what, but he could see it in their eyes—but there was also an air of uncertainty about them, and perhaps that was why they hadn't shared it. Bonnie had reunited with her brother and Serena, and the younger was chattering away excitedly about _something_ that happened. Trip was laying on his back, his head on Georgia's lap and his arm crossed over his eyes; the new Elite Four member, meanwhile, was talking with Ritchie. Burgundy and Chili were alone and not talking at all, though it was evident there was a lot that wanted to be said.

And then there was Leaf and Paul. Silver saw them sitting outside the throne room near the stone door they had mutually destroyed. She had sunken onto a step, keeping Paul as her company, though he didn't seem to be talking much. Then Lance approached.

"How many of ours were bitten?" Lance asked plainly. Paul briefly flicked his gaze toward him, overall disaffected by his arrival, but still wishing he hadn't come. He didn't respond. The question was, obviously, meant for Leaf.

"Two: Iris and May, plus their Haxorus and Blaziken," Leaf answered. She morosely added, "Two too many."

Lance raised an eyebrow and then briefly looked over his own shoulder, surveying the room.

"Was this worth it?" he asked before looking back at her, and Leaf gritted her teeth.

"Not. _Now._"

Paul was about ready tell Lance to buzz off when Leaf's radio suddenly came alive with feedback. Leaf blinked and picked it up, readjusting the settings. Then Harley's voice patched through:

"_This is your friendly neighborhood communication host Harley at the Battle Pyramid. Do you read me?_"

Leaf rolled her eyes before answering in a flat tone of voice, "This is Leaf. What do you need Harley?"

"_I just received some pretty important news from the Opelucid Pokémon Center that I think you'll want to hear,_" Harley went on, and Leaf cut him off there.

"I already know about Gary." Her voice cracked a little when she spoke. "I don't want to hear anything more about it."

"_You mean about the successful treatment find?_"

A beat of silence followed. Lance, Paul, and Leaf all stared at the radio blankly for a moment; then Leaf and Paul ended up exchanging astonished glances.

"What do you mean?" Leaf asked.

"_Your beau Gary cracked the virus code,_" Harley said. "_Something with Heart Scales and Pokémon-Human relationships and Mega Evolution._"

Leaf was confused at first, but it soon evolved into a type of disbelieving anger.

"T-That's impossible; he's dead," she sputtered out.

"_Not according to Bianca,_" Harley said.

Leaf was clutching the radio hard by then. She was utterly confused and angry, inclined to believe that it was some sick joke Harley had contrived for his own amusement. She started to look around her for an answer, from Paul first, then Lance—and then her gaze moved past them, traveling back into the throne room, where she saw Silver hovering near Ash.

Realization struck, and a torrential relief filled her, and for a moment, she was close to tears. It dried up though as a sudden fury consumed her, and the radio slipped through her fingers.

"Le—" Paul started, having reach the same conclusion, but by the time he had sprung to his feet, she had already flown back into the throne room. "Leaf!"

"_You son of a bitch!_" Leaf struck Silver across the face so viciously that her nails cut into his cheek. She had screamed the anathema, and all talk in the room ceased as all eyes shot toward the Indigo Champion and the unknown silver-eyed male with long red hair. Leaf might have hit him again if it weren't for Ash, who, with a surprised yelp, leapt to his feet and injected himself between the two, and Paul, who grabbed her by the arms and pulled her back.

"Leaf!" Iris also jumped to her feet and ran over, and there were others who followed.

"You lied to me!" Leaf continued to scream at Silver. "You told me Gary was dead. You took advantage of my emotions, deliberately misled me so I would—"

"—And it worked didn't it?" Silver cut her off with a short laugh, unable to react any other way with the sting upon his cheek. "It worked better than I would have thought." Ash felt like he couldn't breathe as he stared at his brother, absolutely mortified. Then Silver added, "You know, I learned a thing or two about manipulation from you."

Leaf's jaw clenched. Her eyes burned with a hatred unmatched by any who had provoked her manic temper before.

"I don't ever want to see you again," she said coldly, her voice shaking. "I don't care who you're related to, or what you've done for whom, I swear, if I ever see you again—"

It required Drew and Paul both to drag her from him, and Silver fell away, turning toward the broken doors and leaving the wreckage behind.

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	30. XXIX: In Which Misty Moves the Pieces

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Chapter XXIX: In Which Misty Moves the Pieces

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_**July 28th, 2009. Late Morning. Opelucid City.**_

Passing through the entrance doors to the Opelucid Pokémon Center was no longer met with the anguished cries of creatures made rapacious for the flesh of fellow beings by an enigmatic pathogen that perhaps was not so enigmatic anymore. The echoes of such cries still rang in the ears of those who had heard them; however, their tangible absence ushered in a light, almost ethereal quality about the place in contrast to the nightmarish atmosphere that had pervaded the halls not long before.

Trainers—young, journeying trainers who had only heard the word "G-Men" on their parents' lips—were now trickling back into the Center's cycle of transient residency, no longer being driven away by the mangled screams of mangled Pokémon just beyond the double doors marked "Employees Only." A sense of normalcy had restored itself, not entirely, but it was getting there. Nurse Joy regularly waited at the counter again, and several Audino moved unhurried in and out the doors and down the hallways with no greater demand being pressed upon them.

Gary sat in the back area among the now-diminishing population of the infected Pokémon for which he and his team were responsible. He had been _officially _discharged from the hospital four days earlier, but he had been relegated to a wheelchair in his continued recovery. His ankle, the site of infection, was in poor condition, so he hobbled whenever he tried to walk; the injury would undoubtedly require physical therapy. However, the distinct shade of lavender had faded from his scleras, and his fever and general nausea had vanished with the color. In fact, with the exception of his lame ankle, he was in as nearly good of health as he had been prior to the moment Buneary sank her teeth into his skin.

"T-Thank you," a trainer—a 15-year-old girl named Daniela—gratefully sobbed as Gary pressed her now-evolved Lopunny's Pokéball into her hands. "I don't know what to say. Buneary—" She stumbled for a moment, then corrected herself. "—Lopunny, I mean, has been my partner ever since I started my journey. I'm so lucky to have her."

Gary's lips twitched into a strange smile.

"I'm lucky to have met her," he said. Daniela was next presented with a medicinal vial brimming with a bizarre multicolored liquid, a set of disposable syringes, and printed instructions on how to administer the treatment. She was taken aside by Bill for a demonstration.

As she left, Brock leaned over the table toward Gary and, with a gratified smile, said, "That's got to feel good."

"It does." Gary nodded before turning his chair around and heading back to observe their other patients, the ones who were not ready to be released or had not been picked up by their trainers yet. There was the unaddressed and depressing reality that perhaps some would never be picked up because their trainers had not lived long enough to see a cure—but that was a dilemma on which Gary refused to ponder in happier moments like this one.

Steven was with them, observing some of the patients himself. His fascination with the infected had erupted twofold now that the virus had crossed planes of expertise and touched an area of his research in a rather unexpected way. Steven reached for the sleeping Zigzagoon, petting it gently on the head. Although it was still in recovery, he was no longer afraid of it.

"It really is remarkable," Steven said as Gary approached. "No, more than remarkable—this changes everything. Every professor's research, no matter their field, will be affected by this. My research will be affected by this."

Gary stared at the Zigzagoon for a moment. It drowsily opened its eyes, revealing their rich brown color. It was only days earlier they were violet.

"You know, I went into paleontology because—well, because I enjoy it—but also because I thought it would be so different from my grandfather's research," Gary said. "I wanted to make my own mark, not live in my grandfather's shadow. Somehow, I still ended up in the business of Pokémon and human relationships."

"I think you've made your mark," Brock said with a short, almost-sarcastic laugh.

"And anyway, this really bridges many different fields of research, not just yours and your grandfather's," Steven appended. "The relationship between humans and Pokémon... Mega Evolution... the origins of Pokémon... Pokémon paleontology... Pokémon mythology, even! It's all been tied together now. It's revolutionary." Realizing he was losing himself, Steven shook his head, and then looked to Gary, inquiring, "Did the results for the blood test on Diantha's Aurorus come back?

"It did," Gary confirmed. "It tested positive for the virus." Steven shook his head again as if the whole thing was simply too fantastic to believe.

"So much of this is still lost of me." Eyes turned toward Bianca, who had sauntered in with a Flaaffy—the same infected Flaaffy found at the underground Team Plasma castle—spilling from her arms. She had sheared its wool, making the thing look a little naked, but it also looked far healthier now without the odd patches of wool missing. "It seems so big and confused, and it's hard to take it all in."

"I think everyone's still trying to make sense of it," Gary offered. "There are a lot of unanswered questions now—and a lot of hypotheses I've got to test. I think, like it or not, research into this virus has become my life's work."

"How does Leaf feel about that?" Brock asked.

"I think Leaf is just happy I'm alive," Gary said. A pause. It was a strand of conversation no one really wanted to follow.

"Yes, well—what kind of hypotheses?" Steven asked, steering the conversation back into less emotional matters.

"I don't know. A lot," Gary started. "It's evident there's some kind of link between Mega Evolution and the virus. Mega Stones and Key Stones can give rise to a Mega Evolution if you've got the just the right composition, but Pokémon who are infected and _don't _have a Mega Stone can Mega Evolve, too—that is, dependent on the relationship between the Pokémon and their trainer."

A dwindling set of vials full of the multicolored liquid sat on the counter near Gary, and he reached out to touch one. He continued, "That's the link: the relationship between humans and Pokémon. That's the real trigger for Mega Evolution. Mega Stones, the virus—those are just the sources of power. And Heart Scales... they're the gelatinous essence of that kind of bond. When I read in my grandfather's book about how Heart Scales are used in Mega and Key Stones, I knew there had to be some kind of connection. That connection ended up being the cure."

Gary drew his hand away, leaned his head back, and groaned, "But while that much is true, it springs forward hundreds of questions. Why do Pokémon who evolve by Mega Stones _not _lose all sense of themselves in the way an infected Pokémon does? Why are there multiple triggers for Mega Evolution? How did the virus disappear in the first place? It exists in record and proof of ancient Pokémon, but no modern Pokémon were ever diagnosed with something like this until Colress purposefully started doing it. I've got theories, but no definitive answers."

Another pause. He went on, "I think the difference between a Mega Stone and the virus is maybe more obvious: it's an external force versus an internal force. Steven, you know—" Gary pointed directly at the Key Stone encrusted in the lapel attached to Steven's shirt. "—when you hold one of those, there's just something about them, a kind of life pulsating beneath the surface. The Ciete? Maybe. You'd know better than I would. But my point is this: Imagine that kind of power pumping directly through your veins. That's the virus. Maybe that's why infected Pokémon lose control. They sort of borrow the power when it's just a Mega Stone. When you've got the virus, though, there's no giving that power back. It's with you, always. That's one theory."

He was thinking aloud by then, and his companions let him do it. Gary dragged a hand down his chin, adding, "But that alone brings forward even more questions: Will the infected Pokémon lose their access to stoneless Mega Evolution with treatment? Or is it something that will have to be controlled with medication for the rest of their lives? Or maybe one treatment is all it takes to temper it, and then they're fine, and they can still Mega Evolve. It's still too early to say. _That's_ something I've got to test."

"I see what you mean when you say you've got your life's work cut out for you now," Bianca said with a nervous laugh. "I'm almost jealous, but at the same time, I'm not."

"I told you before, but it's speculated Mega Evolution disappeared around the Red and Green Wars six-hundred years ago. Perhaps that's the same time the virus vanished. Maybe the virus and Mega Stones both tap into a power that's inherently within Pokémon, one that their presumed creator Mew built into their very biology, with the intention of building a bridge between humans and Pokémon," Steven mused. "And perhaps it was taken away during those wars, when Pokémon became humanity's tools rather than our partners." With a wry smile, he then added, "Wouldn't it be incredibly appropriate then for Team Plasma—an organization that claims its mission as equality between Pokémon and humans—to reintroduce it into the world?"

The question was met with silence, but its impact had been made. Steven flicked his wrist over to check his watch and continued, irrelevantly, "I must be on my way now. I return to Hoenn today with Cynthia and Emily in a couple hours, and Cynthia will be upset if I'm the cause for a missed flight."

"Where are Cynthia and Emily?" Brock asked.

"With Paul, I believe, offering some parting words of wisdom." Steven extended a hand to Gary first, then to Brock. "Well, gentlemen—Bianca—it's been a pleasure."

"Have a safe flight, Steven," Gary said politely before Steven left to exchange similar pleasantries with Bill, Aurea, and the elder Oak. Then he was gone, but his disappearance was marked by the arrival of another familiar face.

"Hello," Aurea greeted the new visitor kindly. "Are you here to pick up your Pokémon?"

The younger woman hesitated, saying, "Not—_my_—Pokémon."

"Burgundy." Gary named her as he moved toward them. "I'm guessing you're here for Karina's Purrloin?"

Burgundy nodded and clasped her hands together.

"I am."

* * *

There was a familiar ferocity reflected in young Emily's steely blue eyes; Paul could see it, but from where he sat, he could not discern its significance. She was alone on the sofa in Paul's living room, her feet dangling over the edge, her mother's digital tablet pressed into her small hands. She was watching something, and while he didn't know what, the screen's glow on her face shared that it was something Paul did not know existed in a child whose gaze would never meet his.

Her mother sat in a haze before him, and her words were a haze too until he realized she had, in fact, asked him a question.

"Everything will be fine," Paul answered, bringing Cynthia—and their conversation—back into focus. "The major concern is the Heart Scales. They're rare, and we've already gone through most of our supply. But I spoke with Reggie this morning, and he knows Luvdisc can be bred to produce more."

He thought he had answered the question correctly as she smiled and leaned back into her chair.

"That's good to hear," she started before adding, "I meant you, though. Will you be fine?"

She was prying too deeply for his taste. Still, his answer was automatic.

"I will."

"Are you still seeing Caitlin?" she asked.

"I spoke with her a couple days ago," he answered, and he hoped that would be the end of it. Cynthia seemed to sense his aversion, especially as his gaze drifted past her again. She glanced behind her, catching sight of her own daughter sitting apart from them. Emily paused to readjust the tiny white headphone nestled inside her ear and push a strand of her thin blonde hair away from her face.

"You know, she wants to be the Champion someday," Cynthia told him. Paul blinked and flicked his gaze back toward his predecessor.

"She's ambitious," was all he said. His face hardly showed it, but the remark surprised him.

"So were you. She's 7, not that much younger than when Championship ambitions made up your drive," Cynthia said wryly, evoking the memory of when he, hardly beyond a rookie trainer in retrospect, had challenged Cynthia to a battle in Amity Square. Paul said nothing, and Cynthia—perceiving he was more perturbed from her questions about his wellbeing than she would have thought—added, "I hope you know the way you've handled yourself throughout these affairs has been truly remarkable. You are truly remarkable and very deserving of the title."

Paul's guard fell, but he still looked cautious.

"I'm glad she has you for a model," she concluded.

It was a nice thing to say. Paul might have read it as merely a nice thing to say were it not for the warm authenticity of her voice. He would not have believed her at all otherwise; Emily's parents were both former Champions and probably finer models. To be raised to the same level as them, even if only in the eyes of a child, was reassuring in a strange way, but Paul had nothing to say about it.

"I should to take you soon," he said, changing the subject.

"Of course." Cynthia nodded, rising to her feet.

"And Steven?"

"He's meeting us at the airport." Cynthia extended a hand toward her daughter. "Come on, Emily."

The screen of her tablet briefly tilted forward, and finally, he could see what she was watching: The Napajian Pokémon League Archives, which featured recordings of every televised League battle. It wasn't until she unplugged her headphones and heard the match voices that he realized she was actually watching the 2001 Sinnoh League. She glanced at him shyly in the way she always had, and suddenly, Paul understood why that ferocity had seemed so familiar.

"It's one of her favorite battles to watch," Cynthia said, sliding the tablet back into her bag and resting her hand on the doorknob.

* * *

"August 29th."

Leaf had not touched her food while Misty was more than three-quarters finished. They sat across from each other in a more secluded part of the afternoon diner and had spent the larger portion of their conversation on things of only moderate consequence: whether Dawn and Paul were in fact together again, the safe return of Lileep to Mauville City, the idea that maybe Iris and Cilan would try to conceive again soon, how Gary was coming along in his recovery. A brief lull in the conversation had finally drawn out the date though, the real reason, Misty knew, that Leaf had invited her there.

"Is that official?" Misty asked.

"I had Goodshow schedule it, and I told Ash," Leaf said. "I'm surprised he didn't tell you. Although, he didn't seem as excited as I thought he'd be when I told him."

"I haven't seen Ash all morning," Misty clarified. "Serena said he went to meet with N." She paused for a moment, then added, "I think N is leaving. If you want to speak with him, you should go find him now."

"I don't have anything to say to N," Leaf said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I'm just ready to leave this behind me."

Misty wondered if those words were layered with dual meaning. Leaf had been loath to reveal her feelings about leaving her title to Ash should he win. Perhaps this was the first hint she would be content to do so, and perhaps it was not surprising with what happened to Gary.

Following the new lull, Leaf touched the edge of her glass and said, "I have a situation."

"That is?"

"Oliver Sand can't ref for the new match," Leaf said. "He'll be on his honeymoon."

"Push the match back for when he returns," Misty immediately suggested as if it were obvious—and necessary, given the massive consequence of the match and Leaf's furious history with partisan referees—but Leaf, to Misty's surprise, hummed and sort of shrugged it off.

"I'd like for you to do me a favor," Leaf said. "I need you to arrange for us to all have dinner tonight."

Misty did not see the connection, but still asked, "Who's us?"

"_Us_," Leaf emphasized, and Misty at least understood this.

"Where?"

"Maybe Cilan and Iris will offer again," Leaf said, but it was clear location was not important. Misty sucked in her breath, worked her gaze over the indecipherable expression of the Champion, and, unsurprisingly, could not find any answers in it.

"Okay," Misty eventually agreed with a nod. "I'll see what I can do." Her eyes shifted when she realized Lance had entered the establishment. She saw him through the gaping heads and hushed whispers of awe, which he ignored as he made his way to them. Misty realized this was her cue to leave, and she reached into her wallet to pull out a bill to cover her part of the check.

"Good morning, Lance," Misty said tacitly, rising to her feet.

"Hello," Lance said, unemotional. Misty exchanged a brief goodbye with Leaf next and then wound her way past the former commander and out the door. He immediately took her place as soon as she was gone.

"I came as soon as you asked," he said.

"I didn't interrupt anything important, did I?" He familiar taunt, which had been absent during her conversation with Misty, had suddenly returned in full force.

"I was meeting with Iris and Adalet," Lance said, an indirect affirmation, though he sensed Leaf actually hoped she was inconveniencing him. "They're pushing through an official pardon for the Rockets. Elesa apparently said they were deserving."

"I believe it." Her tone then fell back into its humorless quality as she changed the subject, saying, "If you haven't heard already, I rescheduled the match between Ash and I for August 29th."

"I hadn't heard about it," Lance said. He added, after too long of a delay to sound sincere, "But it's good."

Leaf wasn't convinced of his authenticity either, but it did not seem to matter.

"I don't want you there, Lance," she said plainly, and he raised a brow. It was an early and strange request. The actual date was more than a month away, but for some reason, she felt she had to address it now.

"May I ask why?"

"There's a mixture of reasons," Leaf answered vaguely.

"Is this petty anger?" Lance immediately assumed this was her grudge, the canyon between them that had been widening the moment he told her she would be his successor.

"No," Leaf denied with a slow shake of her head. "I always forgive you, but I have a hard time forgiving myself when it comes to you."

She braced herself for a fight or at the very least an offended retort. Neither came. Her tongue stumbled, having prepared a counteragument on its very tip, but it had nowhere to go.

"Very well," Lance agreed. "I'll watch from home."

Leaf stared. She had expected this conversation to be a lot longer and a lot more emotionally taxing.

"Is that all then?" Lance asked a moment later, annoyed by her silence and the prospect that perhaps she really had called him there to waste his time with something that could have been resolved over a couple text messages.

Leaf peered doubtfully at him and then at her food.

"Have you eaten yet?" she asked, looking up again, and Lance appeared disarmed.

"... I haven't," he admitted, and Leaf gestured for the waiter to bring another menu.

* * *

The summer heat was relentless in the city's center, and it was taking its toll on Cacturne. The Dark-Type had sunk to a single knee and was doubled over on account of the fist it had just taken to the gut. There was a public battlefield in the park just a block away from the CIU office, and this was where the majority of the staffers had decided to take their lunch break. Most were done and might have been ready to head back had not a series of back-and-forth banter wound up making use of the dusty field.

"Anyone know where Drew went? He was holed up in that private room all day, and then he took off at noon," Harley had said. "Not that I'm sad he's gone. It's just a shame that without him and May, I have no easy targets today."

"I think he went to see May actually," Dawn answered. Harley scoffed before muttering "gross" under his breath, and Max smirked before habitually adjusting his glasses, working up a clever retort of his own.

"You're just bitter because they're in a happy relationship, and all you've got is your—" Max began tauntingly.

"—Shut your mouth, nerd pepper," Harley sneered. "The only reason I'm not with anyone is because my standards are high. Solidad could tell you that."

Solidad appeared as though she was hardly paying attention, but she offhandedly replied, "You never did manage to get Robert's number." Her response elicited laughter from the group, and Harley glowered at her.

"Solidad, you always pull through," Max said, still laughing.

"Yeah, you're Soli_rad,_" Barry added with a grin, and the laughter generally subsided as others grimaced at the pun.

"I try," Solidad humbly said.

"Well, whatever," Harley said with a flippant wave of his hand. "That was only because Robert's married—_ugh_—and apparently a straightedge."

"Excuses," Max dismissed.

"One more smart comment out of you—" Harley threatened.

"Or what?" Max challenged

"You're a tiny string bean brat, I could take you," Harley said, reaching for a Pokéball.

Max remained undeterred; his smirk only widened as he, too, reached for a Pokéball and said, "Prove it."

Harley was not proving it. Several turns into the battle, and it brought them to this: Harley's Cacturne nearly down, and Max's Gallade standing practically unharmed above him.

"Max and his Gallade are strong," Bonnie remarked before taking another bite out of her sandwich.

"He is a gym leader," Solidad said. "I suppose it runs in the family. He and May are both exceptional trainers."

Harley gritted his teeth and called for his Cacturne to stand again. The Dark-type managed to stagger to its feet, and Harley grinned slyly before ordering he use Cotton Spore. Yellowish, downy clouds surrounded Gallade—but only for a moment. As quickly as Gallade was engulfed in the wooly trap, a couple deft slashes freed him, and then he promptly charged toward Cacturne again for Close Combat.

"Battles like these are nice," Dawn mused. "The stakes are low; there's no greater fate hanging on the balance of victory."

"Well, I think that depends on who you talk to," Kenny half-laughed. "I don't think Harley would call this a low-stakes battle. His pride is on the line. He does not want to lose to May's little brother."

The pair of remarks intrigued Serena, and she couldn't help but ask, "How often do you have a high-stakes battle?"

"Too often," Zoey said flatly.

Cacturne crashed to the ground following Gallade's assault, and Harley stared at the scene with his mouth agape. Then Barry called the match in Max's favor, and Harley pitched a fit.

"Hey, I contest that!" he yelled out at the stand-in referee. "You did not give my Cacturne the appropriate wait time!"

"_Excuse me_?" Barry looked indignant. "Cacturne clearly was unable to battle. I think I'll have to issue a fine for questioning a referee!" As the two devolved into a squabble, Max, exasperated but satisfied, returned his Gallade.

"You know, that reminds me," Zoey started, "I heard Leaf and Ash's match was rescheduled—and that she's out a referee again."

"Sheesh, not that again," Max sighed as he rejoined the group.

"Again?" Clemont repeated questioningly.

"There was a whole hullabaloo with a referee in Johto's most recent League conference," Kenny elaborated with a spin of his finger.

"Oh!" Serena's briefly lit up. "I think I remember hearing something about this. Something about a biased referee?"

"Great," Zoey drolled, "so it even managed to make its way overseas."

"Actually, I think it was Cilan and Iris who clued us in," Serena corrected.

"Oh yes, I remember this now too," Clemont recalled, then added with a nervous chuckle, "Napaj certainly has a precarious... situation... with their league and G-Men."

"That's a nice way of putting it," Dawn said with a tired smile. "Aren't you glad to be here?"

Zoey rose from her seat to intervene in Harley and Barry's spat, telling them both to knock it off. The two pouted but begrudgingly returned to clean up and head back to the office.

"Of course," Serena answered, playing along with Dawn's tease, but her answer ended up striking a chord of truth within herself. She had come to deeply enjoy the company of this group; they were exceptional people with an exceptional story, and she understood why they had remained so close over the years—and finally, she felt she had woven herself into their narrative too.

* * *

The door to the Opelucid Gym's office was closed, and Burgundy nearly turned away at that. The door was _usually _open—cracked, maybe, but open—and she immediately got the sense she shouldn't be there. The connoissuese began to back away to leave, but as soon as her head turned, the door swung open and a tall shadow hovered over her.

"Ms. Myers?" A deep voice—Adalet—caused Burgundy to spin in surprise toward the agent. More surprising was that he knew her name, and it took Burgundy a moment to recover.

"Agent Adalet!" Burgundy quickly acknowledged in half a squeak, for which she would silently berate herself.

"She's not here," Adalet went on brusquely, brushing past her and heading down the hallway. "Check outside the gym in the gardens."

She watched him go with an odd expression then peered inside the now-empty office.

"... Okay," she muttered, disgruntled, before heading back toward the elevators.

Once back on the first floor, Burgundy headed for the entrance doors and started to round her way toward the back. She wasn't entirely sure where to go—she wasn't aware of any gardens, though there was foliage in the nearby area—so she started heading toward the left, then open-ended half of the gym that had hosted Iris's inauguration months earlier. She didn't wander far though before realizing the vast space couldn't possibly be the right place and turned back around.

She found greater success on the other side. She uncovered an cobbled path among the lines of trees that eventually led to a small clearing—a garden in loose terms—where Iris stood barefooted with her Haxorus, feeding him Oran berries. The accidental snap of a twig broke Iris out of her reverie, and she whipped her head toward an embarrassed Burgundy before smiling.

"Hi there," she greeted, friendly.

"Hi..." Burgundy hesitated before adding, "How are you feeling? Cilan told me you've been sick."

"I'm fine now," Iris replied, looking back at Haxorus as she let him eat one last Oran berry out of her hand. She rubbed him on the snout as she added, "I _was_ sick—fever, nausea—but no dark scleras, nothing that should cause panic. The treatment works." It was then Burgundy noticed the Champion's forearm still sported a pair of conspicuous bitemarks. Iris continued, "It helps to be able to get out, too. I wasn't allowed out here for the longest time because of everything that was happening." A pause. Iris turned her gaze toward Burgundy again. "I'm guessing you're actually looking for Cilan right now."

"Yes," Burgundy said, drawing out the "s" a little—she almost felt bad admitting it.

"He'll be back soon," Iris said. "He went to run some errands with his brothers. I guess we're hosting another dinner party tonight at Misty's request, though I'm not complaining." Another pause. "I'd be happy if you came. Georgia will be there."

"Oh," Burgundy said, not knowing how to react. The offer was genuine—Iris didn't seem like the type to offer socially polite invitations—but she felt uneasy regardless. "Thank you, but I actually had other plans tonight."

"Well, don't let our plans mess up yours," Iris said plainly. After a moment, she gave the connoisseuse and knowing eye and said, "You know, Cilan's not going to be upset if you take Purrloin back to Karina's parents yourself."

Burgundy was jolted.

"How did you—?"

"Just a feeling I had. I think you need the closure." Iris stopped to whip the beads of perspiration off her forehead. "It's hot out here, huh? I'm heading back inside." She pulled out Haxorus's Pokémon and returned him before looking pointedly at Burgundy again and saying, "Walk with me."

Burgundy waited as Iris pulled her flats back onto her feet, and then they headed for the paved road. They walked in silence for a short while before Burgundy, groping for a way to start this conversation, managed, "You know, I don't think I've ever properly thanked you."

Iris blinked.

"Thanked me for what?" she asked, and Burgundy became antsy, not wanting to go into the details. Everything she had heard about Iris working through and by Cilan to defend her was from a second-hand source, and she would hate to be wrong.

"I don't know," Burgundy said. "Just thank you—for looking out for others even when you don't need to."

Iris seemed to understand the message and smiled.

"It's the right thing to do," she said, stretching her arms behind her. "I guess if there's something I want to carry over from Alder's leadership, it's the commitment to standing by your ideals." Her arms fell to her sides again. "Anyway, don't thank me yet. The semester isn't quite over."

Burgundy didn't have the chance to respond as a car pulled up in front of the gym. They stopped, and once the engine was off, Cilan and his brothers stepped out, bringing grocery bags with them.

"Oh hello ladies," Chili greeted with a cheeky grin. "What's up?" Burgundy's expression waxed annoyed, but Iris spoke first.

"We've just been talking," she said. "Burgundy picked up Karina's Purrloin from the Pokémon Center today."

"Is that so?" Cilan asked, approaching. "How is she?"

Burgundy quickly freed Chili of her wary gaze before responding, "She seems to be doing well."

"Good to hear," Cress said. "It's nice to find the silver lining."

"Are you taking her back to her parents?" Cilan then asked.

"Ah, yes," Burgundy answered, casting Iris a quick glance as she did.

"Need some accompaniment?" Chili immediately offered.

Burgundy frowned. "Well, I—" As she spoke, Cilan and Iris exchanged quick knowing looks before the ladder smiled and reached for Chili's bag.

"Here, I'm heading inside anyway," Iris said, generously taking the bag off his hands.

"We'll catch up with you later," Cilan added with a polite wave of his hand at Burgundy as his wife and Cress started to head inside. Burgundy stared after them in disbelief, almost feeling like she had been betrayed.

Chili grinned again.

"So are you leaving now?" he asked.

"And you assume you're coming with me?" Burgundy huffed, folding her arms.

"It's a long car ride," Chili said. "Some company might be nice."

Burgundy pursed her lips and rolled her neck. Eventually, though, she sighed and gave in with, "Fine." She reached into her bag to pull out her keys, and Chili looked positively smug.

"I knew you couldn't resist," he said.

"Don't push your luck," Burgundy grumbled.

* * *

Pikachu jumped a few inches back when Joltik scuttled toward him through the overgrown tufts of grass in the local Pokémon graveyard. Then, rethinking his own prejudices, he sniffed cautiously at the Bug-type, re-examined its clear blue eyes, and, realizing that truly nothing was wrong, opened himself to Joltik's invitation to play. Ash and N watched the scene wordlessly from the nearby bench.

N had found Ash earlier that morning while at the Pokémon Center to pick up the once-infected Joltik he had captured weeks earlier. When Ash informed N of the story behind Joltik's capture, N immediately became intrigued and asked to follow. They ended up on that graveyard bench with N's suggestion they take Joltik out for fresh air, but rather than stopping by the park, N insisted upon the graveyard. Ash was not sure if N understood the peculiarity of the scenery but obliged anyway.

"I'm leaving with my sisters today."

Ash snapped his head toward N in surprise. It was the first N—either of them, really—had spoken in a while.

"Where are you going?" Ash asked, recovering.

"I'm not sure," N admitted with a shrug. He was still watching Pikachu and Joltik, who were playfully chasing each other now. "Nowhere and everywhere. Trainers like yourself leave with their Pokémon on a journey to learn about themselves and this Pokémon world as early as 10. This will be my journey."

"So are you gonna become a trainer then?" Ash asked.

"Perhaps," N conceded, much to Ash's surprise. "I wanted so much to meet you so I could finally understand trainers and their Pokémon. I feel I somehow understand less though."

Ash frowned.

"I'm sorry."

"No, don't apologize," N said with a wave of his hand. "I was naïve. Truth cannot be spoon-fed to you by one person. You reach the truth through knowledge, and you must earn that knowledge through experience." He then moved his gaze toward Ash, who straightened up in response. "Your wisdom comes through everything you've done, everything you've been through. And you've done everything with Pokémon, so you know an awful lot about them."

"I'm not as smart as you seem to think I am," Ash said with a nervous laugh. "I mean, someone like _Gary _knows a lot about Pokémon. He researches them. There are plenty of people who know more about things than I do."

N looked doubtful. He unfolded his hands and inclined his head further toward Ash, giving him a once-over. Ash was starting to feel unsettled—more unsettled, given their strange backdrop.

"You have one of those stones, don't you?" N asked.

"Oh." Ash reached into his back and pulled out the unadorned rainbow-colored pearl, letting it lay in the middle of his open palm. "My Key Stone you mean?"

N's hand hovered over the stone but he did not dare touch it.

"How did you get it?"

"Well, I didn't really 'earn' it," Ash clarified. "It was a gift. When I was younger, right before I left Kalos, Serena and Clemont and Bonnie gave it to me."

"You did earn that." N dropped his hand. "You earned their friendship, didn't you?"

Ash hesitated.

"Well, when you put it that way..." He trailed off, and they fell into silence again. N returned his attention to Pikachu and Joltik, and Ash stowed away the Key Stone back in his bag. N's gaze, Ash noted, was distant, deep in thought.

"Yes, there is much I need to learn still, and I need to learn it for myself," N eventually mused. He then abruptly rose his feet, and Ash followed suit. "I need to go." A pause. He then added, "I do so wish I could've seen Oscar one last time, though."

Ash became sobered.

"Yeah, me too," he said. N smiled, and Ash was not sure what to read in that smile: Ignorance? Sympathy? A secret knowledge? Ash did not ask as N, recalling the formal tradition, extended a hand to Ash.

"Goodbye," N said, weakly and strangely shaking Ash's hand. "Perhaps we'll meet again someday."

"Yeah," Ash agreed. "You'll have to tell me what you learned from being a trainer, and maybe—" He was about to suggest they ought to have a battle, but he thought better of it. "... Thanks for helping us." Ash ended on a different note.

N nodded to him and turned away from him, toward Pikachu and Joltik. The two Pokémon suddenly stopped as his shadow hung over them, and they looked at him wide-eyed as N bent down first to pet Pikachu on the head then to tickle the fuzz beneath Joltik's chin.

Then he was gone.

Ash sank back onto the bench. Pikachu stared after N and, with ears lowered, looked back at his trainer sadly. He leapt onto the bench and wriggled his way onto Ash's lap, pushing his head under the trainer's hand. Joltik appeared confused, partially as to why Pikachu had stopped playing with him and partially as to why his new trainer looked so distraught. He climbed up the leg of the bench and sat beside Ash, waiting.

They were there for a while, unchanged—until a shadow stretched over Joltik. The Bug-type looked up then scuttled away to make room.

"Hey," Misty said, managing to draw Ash out of his unusually ponderous state. "You looked awfully spaced out."

"Sorry," Ash sheepishly apologized, but he offered no explanation. Misty frowned and sat where the Joltik previously lay.

"Leaf said you two rescheduled the match," she said, attempting to strike up a conversation. "That's got to be exciting."

"Yeah," Ash half-heartedly agreed with a nod. Misty pursed her lips, now knowing with certainty that something was wrong.

"You don't sound like the Ash Ketchum I know," she remarked. "Leaf _did_ say you didn't seem too enthused about it when she told you. Why is that?"

"It's complicated," Ash answered with a slight shrug. "I guess I'm just kinda down."

"Does this have to do with Silver?"

"And Leaf," Ash affirmed.

"Try to explain, and I'll try to understand," Misty gently pressed. Ash nodded willingly but paused, moving his hand down Pikachu's back before reaching for Joltik and bringing him onto his lap as well.

"I just feel torn up about all of it," Ash said as he resituated himself. "I knew that Silver was lying."

The apparent confession threw Misty off.

"What?" she asked, blinking.

"I knew that Silver was lying when he told Leaf that Gary was dead," Ash clarified. "I was with him when he saw Gary. There was never any sort of agreement between them. Silver made it up so he could upset Leaf and make her wanna fight. I tried to think that maybe I was just missing something, but I knew. He just wanted to make sure he could face those old Team Rocket members. I realized it when I saw he was going to kill Oakley, but I stopped him. Then Leaf figured it out too, and Silver admitted to it, and I felt pretty stupid."

Misty did not know what to say yet, and Ash's voice grew more pained as he went on.

"And I didn't do anything about it, and I think I didn't do anything about it because _I _wanted to fight them too," he said. "What kind of Champion would do something like that? Would let someone use a friend like that?"

"Hindsight is 20/20, Ash," Misty tried to assure him. "You're being too hard on yourself. Silver used you, too. Maybe there were signs along the way, but we all missed them."

"I'm not even that mad at Silver," Ash said, though the admission was laced with conflict. "I think I want to be. But I'm not. Silver's spent his whole life in fear of Team Rocket, especially after what happened seven years ago." He paused, then looked directly at her. "I told you, remember? They tried to kill him for helping us. He should have been under the protection of the G-Men, but he wasn't because of Leaf. So I guess I can't really blame him. It was wrong, but he only did what he felt like he had to do." His hands fell to his sides on the bench and he stretched his head back. "And then there's Leaf. I _was_ mad at her after I found out about what she did to Silver, but now I'm not. She was only trying to do the same. It's all so knotty."

A long silence followed. A response was forming on the tip of Misty's tongue, but she could tell Ash was not finished. So she waited, and he finally reached the heart of his affliction.

"I don't know if I'm cut out for this Champion/G-Men stuff," he said. "Leaf is a good leader. She and Paul and Iris make a good team. Do I really want to break that up?"

The response Misty had been planning—agreeing that it was very complicated and that he should not feel guilty over his conflicting feelings—died away. This went far beyond simply being torn between a sibling and a friend; this was a realization of the impossibility of doing right by everyone were he to attain the dream he had held since he was a child.

Misty reached for his hand.

"For what it's worth, I think you would be a great Champion," she said. "Everyone thinks that. Even Leaf."

It was the right thing to say, much to Misty's relief.

"Leaf does?" Ash perked up, and Misty nodded.

"You always see the best in people, and you try to take the high road—you stopped Silver from killing Oakley," she continued. "Not everyone would do that. I don't even think Leaf would." She seemed to have captured his confidence, and she smiled before finishing, "Every Champion brings something new and valuable to the table. Iris brought her courage in exchange for Alder's idealism. Paul brought in his grit for Cynthia's wisdom. Leaf brought in her savvy for Lance's practicality, and you will bring in your heart." She paused again. "You know, people are going to be rooting for you."

Ash briefly glanced down, flattered, but he looked up again with a grin and a fire in his eyes. She knew she had won him over then.

"Well, I won't let them down," he said, standing up. He still faltered though, adding, "I just wish it was different, you know? I wish it wouldn't be me replacing Leaf."

"She's ready to leave," Misty immediately said, though she was not wholly sure that was true. Another pause. "You'll be happy to know we're having dinner tonight with everyone at the Opelucid Gym."

Ash did not react in the way she expected in that he hardly reacted at all. He extended his arm to Pikachu, letting him up onto his shoulder, and returned Joltik into his Pokéball.

"Not everyone," he said, sobered again, and Misty only stared.

* * *

It was nice to see good news on television for once. Better than nice, actually. It was a much-needed relief, a break from a summer-long hellscape, and a sign that things were finally going to turn around for the better. May had developed the habit of checking into the daily broadcast through her information-attentive boyfriend (husband?), but the routine had withered over the past few months as the news grew more bleak.

Today was different.

"_So how does the G-Men's antiviral treatment combat the Pokérus?_" the anchor started. "_That's the question many of our viewers have for the government organization, which came out with the treatment Wednesday thanks to the research of Gary Oak, the grandson of the famed Pokémon Professor Samuel Oak. The G-Men have yet to reveal the specific details, but what we do know is—_"

May, who was sitting cross-legged on her bed while watching the report, perked up when she heard the front door open. Not long after, Drew appeared in the bedroom's doorway with a bag of take-out hanging from his hand.

"Hey," he greeted easily.

"Hey!" May replied before he leaned in to peck her on the lips. When he pulled back, he held up the food tantalizingly before her.

"Lunch?" he offered.

"Yes please," May answered hungrily as she clicked off the television set with her remote. Drew settled beside her on the bed and handed her a take-out box. She was eager to dive right in, and after the first bite, she asked, "How are things going today?"

"Good." Drew nodded. "I actually haven't really been with the staff much. My father's lawyer called me."

"Oh." May didn't know how to best react. "How was that?"

Drew shrugged.

"I knew from the beginning that I didn't want to keep anything, and I'm not," he said. "I'm turning the Battle Tower over to its Vice President, and I'm parceling some of his wealth out to former employees."

"That's good. That seems fair," May said. "What about the rest, though?"

"Well..." Drew started. "Before he changed his will and left everything to me, he was planning on leaving a sizable portion of his fortune to SAMPLe. I figured I ought to put that money to good use—into something _I _care about."

"What's that?"

Drew's nonplussed expression twitched and turned into a smirk then.

"The CIU," he said, and May lit up.

"Really?!" she asked excitedly. "How much is it?"

"Enough to build a handful of new Contest Halls." His smirk widened into something more like a grin. "Or maybe four... or five..."

May let out a short, cheerful laugh.

"Mr. Contesta will be happy. He's going to want to name one of those buildings after you," she said, and Drew grimaced.

"I'll pass."

Silence fell again as the two resumed eating. Yet, Drew seemed to draw into his own thoughts, and May watched as he did. She could tell there was something further he wanted to say, and in time, he proved her right.

"I brought you something else," he started, shifting himself so he could face her directly. May blinked in confusion before drawing in a sharp breath when he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black jewelry box. He pried the lid open with his thumb to reveal the engagement ring within in. "So I talked to Barry this afternoon—turns out, there's a little more paperwork to marriage than he thought."

May knew what he meant, and she had suspected as much. The world was so complicated, and marriage—at least in the eyes of the law—was not as simple as a set of heartfelt vows exchanged between lovers. Still, she had already taken to thinking of Drew as a spouse, even if just in her head. She was admitted into a hospital for observation after their stint at Team Plasma's base, and the next morning, she woke up to Drew asleep on the edge of the single-sized bed. She had smiled and reached out to touch his face, thinking to herself, "I can't believe he's my _husband _now."

"I think we're a little bit married," May said coyly.

"They call that engaged."

"You're such a cynic," May scoffed.

"May, of all people, I thought you would want a wedding," Drew teased, and May frowned, obviously pouting.

"... I want a wedding," she eventually admitted, and Drew smirked again.

"That's what I thought," he said with a sense of triumph, but his tone changed completely when he added, "May, those vows _were_ real, and I consider you my wife in the same way you probably consider me your husband. That's something special for just you and I. But we'll make it official for everyone else too." May's heart swelled at that, and Drew plucked the ring from the plush interior of the box, intending to slip it onto her finger—but she stopped him.

"Well, in that case, we should tell everyone we're engaged—tonight," May said.

"Tonight?" Drew questioned.

"Misty texted me to say that everyone's getting together again," she elaborated. "You weren't there last time. You were in La Rousse. Now everyone will be there."

Drew appeared doubtful, reminding her, "You're still recovering."

"I'm feeling much better," May protested. "I would have gone to the office today no problem, but you insisted I stay in bed."

He was swayed.

"All right," he agreed. "Tonight, then." A pause. "Is Wallace going to be there?"

"Wallace and Winona left," May said.

"Ah" was all Drew could manage. May frowned and inclined her head toward him.

"You don't have to avoid this topic with me," she said. "We can talk about it again. I mean, we're... sort of married, so it affects me just as much as it affects you."

Drew nodded and sucked in his breath.

"I was... just going to say that you should accept," he said. May's eyes widened, caught completely by surprise.

"What?"

"You should be the Hoenn Champion," Drew continued. "You're a great trainer and leader. The kind of things you could do for this country..."

May stared at him strangely for a while, nearly long enough for Drew to grow uneasy. It was a 180 from his previous position—which, really, was a stubborn refusal to take a position since he couldn't conceive the idea of her possibly accepting—and he expected her to maybe show some surprise but not this.

"I'm not going to accept," May said flatly. She then quickly added, "Not yet, at least."

"May, you're capable—"

"I know I'm capable," May cut him off, then appeared to grow a little flustered. "Well... I mean, I think I could do it. But that's not how I want things to go—for Napaj, or for my life. I really have faith that things could be different, that things could be better than me just being handed the position. I'm not going to know for sure though until August 29th."

Now Drew's face contorted in confusion.

"What's August 29th?" he asked.

"Didn't you hear?" May said. "Ash and Leaf rescheduled their match."

_**July 28th, 2009. Afternoon. Nuvema Town.**_

Ritchie ran his cup under the kitchen faucet before taking a swig of the lukewarm drink, making a face, and setting the cup aside again. He never did like Unova's tap water, and the summer heat didn't improve things. It would be nice to finally head home in a few days now that everything was happily drawing to an end (He could hear the hum of voices—indistinguishable but easy goodbyes—just beyond the wall in the next room, and it was a satisfying sound). His thoughts were interrupted, however, with his phone's vibrations in his back pocket.

He swiftly pulled out the device. Misty had messaged him: _Are you and Trip coming tonight? Leaf asked._

Ritchie opened the message to reply.

_Yeah, Georgia's on her way to pick us up._ He sent it, then paused for a moment before drafting another message. _Can you comment on the rumor that Leaf set a new date for her match vs. Ash?_

It didn't take her long to reply back.

_Not a rumor. It's true._

_Do you know when?_

_8/29_

Ritchie frowned and quickly did the math in his head. 32 days.

_That's a long time to wait._

_I know. She needs the time though. Her ref isn't available._

Ritchie faltered at that.

_What?! Oliver's out?_

_Yeah, I guess he'll be on his honeymoon._

_Why doesn't she push it to another date then?_

_Idk. I don't know what goes through her mind._ Ritchie hadn't even replied when he received another message from her. _Maybe she wasn't happy with him and is looking for someone else. She doesn't know him well, and you know she's careful w/ who she trusts._ Then, yet another message. _Or maybe Goodshow has her in a bind._

Ritchie pursed his lips.

_Maybe._

He thought the conversation would end there. He locked his screen and slipped it into his pocket—only for it to vibrate again. He pulled it out to find Misty had sent another text.

_In other news, Iris pardoned TR._

Ritchie made an audible noise at that—something resembling a sigh, and it came with a smile.

_Good. I know it might sound weird, but I was hoping she would._

He wasn't sure how she would react to that—he had less of an intense history with Team Rocket than her, he knew—so it was a relief and a satisfaction when her answer came back.

_Same, actually._

Ritchie could hear the door open in the next room, and Georgia's voice followed shortly thereafter. Ritchie put his phone away again then quickly washed out his cup in the sink before heading out to see them. Georgia and Trip stood together, already caught up in each other's presence, and Emily McGonnigal sat tiredly on her sofa with her now-recovered Herdier resting his head on her lap. She offered Ritchie a wrinkled smile as soon as he entered; she, too, was in much better health, though she still seemed quite drained. Yet, her eyes soon diverted back to Georgia, evidently intrigued by her company.

"Hey," Trip greeted evenly upon Ritchie's arrival. "You ready to go?"

"Sure am," Ritchie answered.

Trip nodded at this, then glanced back at his mother.

"Mom, are you sure you're going to be okay?" he asked.

"Don't fuss over me. I'll be fine," Emily assured him, her hand falling to the Pokémon nestled close to her. "I have Herdier to keep me company." Her gaze moved pointedly to Georgia again, and finally, Trip seemed to get the message.

"Oh, have I ever introduced you to Georgia?" he asked.

"I don't believe you have," Emily said with an appeased expression.

Ritchie took that as a cue to leave. "I'll wait outside," he murmured to no one in particular before heading outside.

The heat was blistering the moment he stepped into the sunlight, and he immediately regretted his polite departure. He trotted down the steps, aiming to find shade under the tree, when he noticed a neighbor was watering his sun-dried grass.

"Hey, James!" Ritchie called out to him, half-surprised. He had nearly forgotten that the duo lived next door. James jolted upon hearing his name and looked at him wide-eyed.

"Oh, hello—" James paused, grasping for a name. "—Ritchie..." Another pause. "I didn't know you were here."

"I was just up here with Trip," Ritchie explained, approaching the short hedge that separated the two properties. "Is everything going well?"

"Oh yes." James quickly nodded. He seemed nervous. "Jessie and I are just... settling back in! Everything's dandy. She can't wait to kick Butch and Cassidy out, but I've been telling her we can't just them fend for themselves, even if we've had our differences."

"Wow... that's..." Ritchie started. "... really cool of you."

James suddenly appeared more at at ease.

"Well, Jessie does make Cassidy change diapers in exchange for our hospitality," he said, abashed. Ritchie let out a short laugh, and James smiled before adding, "Ah, you know... you can tell the other twerp—I mean, Trip—that we (well, I) would be happy to check in on his mom for him. She's a very nice woman. Uh, brought us dinner and stuff right after Jayce was born."

"Ritchie!" Georgia was calling to him. She and Trip were on their way down the steps and toward the car.

"I'll let him know," Ritchie said. "Thanks. I'll catch you later."

"Yeah," James amicably agreed.

Ritchie turned to join the other two as they piled into the air-conditioned vehicle. Once comfortably settled in, Georgia turned an eye toward Ritchie and asked, "What were you talking to him for?" She didn't sound suspicious, but she still came off as brusque. Ritchie shrugged.

"Just checking in, I suppose," he said. He glanced at the window. James was wiping his forehead before he rolling up the hose to head back inside."You know, I think they're genuinely reformed."

"I never really met them before, so I couldn't say," Trip said. Ritchie's lips twitched into another smile.

"Trust me on it," he said. "It's a happy ending."

_**July 28th, 2009. Early Evening. Opelucid City.**_

"You're lying," Serena breathed incredulously, with a sort of humored thrill running through her voice as she did a double-take between Leaf and Gary, the latter of whom looked rather disgruntled by the topic at hand. Leaf, however, only let on a rather sly smile.

"I'd _never_ lie about something like this," she said, her voice thick with derision before she turned to bat her eyelashes at Gary, who was one of the few sitting on account of his injured limb. Serena, on the edge of laughter, still wasn't quite convinced though, and she turned to a second source.

"Ash, can you confirm?" she asked. He immediately grinned in response.

"Oh yeah," he said. "The cheerleaders were real. They were real for like... at least two years."

The look on Gary's face was one of exasperation and betrayal. Ash couldn't help but let a laugh slip at his expression, and the sound alone put a smile on Misty's face. Ash, she noted, was far happier now that he was in the company of friends. The dinner party was well under way, and there was no gloom—no anxieties—hanging above them tonight.

"No way," Serena laughed; she, too, seemed far more gregarious that evening, and it was a welcome evolution. Then came the ego-crushing question: "Were they paid?" Louder, fuller laughter immediately erupted in the group, and Gary rolled his neck.

"They were not," he eventually answered, indignantly

"Why _did_ they follow you around then?" Zoey asked.

"Hey, I was— look, you're all ganging up on a sick man," Gary grumbled. "I hope you're proud of yourselves."

"I don't sympathize," Leaf said bluntly.

"Did I ask for your opinion, Madam Champion?" Gary snarked.

"No, but it comes free."

"You know, I wasn't the only one with some very dedicated lady friends," Gary pointed out. His gaze then settled on Cilan, who had swung nearby in picking up a bottle of wine. "Cilan used to have a unit of women who cheered for him and his brothers at the Striaton Gym."

"Oh no, don't bring me into your misfortune," Cilan said in passing. There was more laughter, and the night descended into a warm haze of jollity. The attendees meandered among each other, but eventually, Misty, growing impatient and curious, left Ash and made her way back to Leaf's side.

"So what's your plan for the night?" Misty asked her in a low voice. Leaf raised her brow and cast the redhead a wondering glance.

"Plan?"

"You asked me to help you arrange this," Misty said. "You had to have had a reason."

Leaf looked half-offended but drew her wineglass close to her lips and smoothed her nerves.

"I think after everything we've been through, we deserve time to just spend time in good company," Leaf eventually responded. "And personally, I'd like to rebuild some bridges—open some doors." Misty turned her head and narrowed her eyes, considering the Champion's words. Leaf seemed disinterested by then, however, as she peered past Misty's shoulder and added, "Excuse me, we've got some new guests." Georgia, Trip, and Ritchie had just arrived.

"Good of you three to join us," Leaf said, approaching the trio. She focused her attention on Trip next, asking, "How's your mother?"

"She's doing okay," Trip answered plainly. "Is it true you and Ash rescheduled?"

"We did," Leaf said with a curt nod. "There are still a couple snags, but... there is time to worry about that later." Ritchie blinked and pursed his lips while Trip and Georgia shrugged off the response. Before their conversation could carry on any further, the clear, sharp sound of metal clicking against glass brought all eyes toward Drew.

"Hello everyone," Drew started once he had everyone's attention. "I—we—" He quickly corrected himself as his arm reached for May's waist. "—have a quick announcement." An excited and anticipatory breath swept across the room. Drew continued, "I just wanted to take a moment and introduce you—" May laughed, half-embarrassed as he pulled her in closer. "—to the future Mrs. May Maple Hayden."

He emphasized each name while everyone else waited with bated breath, and when he reached "Hayden," a definite applause broke. Dawn went to hug May, and others weren't far behind with their own forms of congratulations.

"Well, it's about time," Ritchie remarked with a grin. "I'm happy for them."

"Me too," Leaf said sedately. Ritchie was surprised by her tone, and he shared a curious glance with her. She only smiled in response and sashayed away.

She passed by the new happy couple and, laying a hand on Drew's shoulder, uttered a quick, "Congratulations." Drew gave her an odd look that eventually broke into wary appreciation.

"Thanks," he said with a quick nod.

She left the room with little notice. Gary watched her pass by without her saying a single word—without her casting him a single glance—and he furrowed his eyebrows before staggering to his feet and following.

_**July 28th, 2009. Early Evening. Lacunosa Town.**_

"It's gonna be interesting to see what happens when August rolls around," Chili mused aloud, his arms stretched behind his head. Night had fallen, and the distance ahead was now lit only by yellow streetlamps, adding to the calming effect of an open, empty road. "Personally, I'm pulling for Ash. I'd like to actually see a trainer win against a Champion for once—not any behind-the-scenes bunk."

The effect faded, and Burgundy's lip twitched in annoyance.

"You do realize your in-law benefitted from a back-door League selection?" she said dryly.

"Yeah, so? Look what that got her," Chili said. "... I don't hold it against her. I guess it's just the way things are now, but it still ought to change. And I respect that in Iris: She definitely wants it to change. You know that's why she, Leaf, and Paul got involved in this business, so they can change it from the inside."

Burgundy nearly rolled her eyes.

"You sound like a conspiracy theorist," she said.

"Am I wrong, though?" Chili pressed. "You've spent a good chunk of time close to this now, and I'm sure you've seen what's up."

Burgundy frowned. As ludicrous as every word sounded, she couldn't deny there were shreds—or, rather, full sheets—of truth in what he said. A single conversation with Georgia about politics could confirm that. Cilan was more opaque, but any time something even somewhat related came up, it ended up painting the same picture.

"I have," Burgundy admitted. "I guess I'm just not personally affected."

"Yeah, tell me that again next time some other crazy tries to kill a Champion and overthrow the G-Men," Chili scoffed.

"Hm. Point taken." Realizing she sounded callous—she, herself, had pointed out Iris was his in-law—she drew her shoulders forward sheepishly and said, "Sorry. ... I would care. I wouldn't want to see anything happen to Iris, and I wouldn't want to see what would happen to Unova afterward."

Chili was silent, but he seemed impressed by her apology. Burgundy drummed her fingers against the wheel, hating that _now, _of all times, he decided not to say anything. The passed the boundaries leading into town, and all the way, Burgundy was wracking her brain for something further to say.

"We almost there?" Chili asked, ending her struggle.

"Yeah," Burgundy answered, and a sense of trepidation suddenly gripped her. She was half-angry with herself then: She couldn't waste time thinking about what to say to _Chili_ when she needed to think about what she would say to Karina's parents.

Chili, sensing her new wave of anxiety, asked, "So you feel getting something to eat before doing this?"

"With you? Not particularly," Burgundy dismissed, and Chili frowned.

"Y'know Burgundy, you send a lot of mixed signals," he grumbled. "Serious question: So you and I agreed that if I lost to you in the contest, then you'd never have to talk me again. So why keep opening your mouth?"

"As if I have much of a choice," Burgundy huffed. "The entire Griffith clan is conspiring against me."

"Overdramatic much?"

"Hardly." Chili craned an eyebrow and, again, said nothing. Burgundy wetted her lips and added, "Look: I'm not necessarily opposed to never talking to you. The main reason why I went through with your deal was because I wanted to make clear that what happened between us was nothing more than a one-night stand."

Chili blinked, then let out a short, enlightened hum.

"All right, cool," he conceded. "I can respect that. I do like talking to you when you're not belligerent."

The qualifier annoyed Burgundy, but she couldn't conjure a good comeback. She turned off the main road and into a residential area. The car slowed to crawl, and they crept past an array of small, comfortable homes, with both parties keeping their eyes off each other and out the window. Finally, Burgundy rolled to a stop in front of the same vine-decorated home she had visited months earlier, and Burgundy's breath briefly hitched. A "For Sale" sign was posted in the yard, but a red "Sold" sticker had been slapped across the front.

"Is this it?" Chili asked.

"Yeah."

"Do you want me to come with you?" he offered.

"No," Burgundy answered curtly as she turned off the car and pushed open her door. Chili clicked his tongue impatiently.

"I'll wait then," he said aloud, though she didn't hear him. She was already on her way toward the front door. She stopped when she reached the doormat, however, and drew in a long, shaky breath. She reached into her purse and felt the smooth surface of Purrloin's Pokéball before raising her hand to knock.

Joseph answered.

"Hello," Burgundy started quickly. "You may not remember me, but—"

"—Ms. Myers." Joseph immediately recognized her and pushed the door further open. "Please come in."

Burgundy remained wide-eyed for a moment, then hesitated, glancing back at Chili in her car. His feet were up on the dash, and he appeared as though he wasn't paying attention. She turned forward again and nodded before being ushered inside by the father. The place was more barren than Burgundy remembered it.

"Marion," Joseph, his voice barely raised, called out. "We have a visitor."

Karina's mother appeared from the hallway, a small packing box in her arms. She smiled tiredly and set it aside.

"Ms. Myers, it's good to see you," she said. "Can I get you anything? Some tea? Coffee? ... Please excuse our mess."

"I'm... I'm fine, but thank you," Burgundy said. Marion gestured for her to sit at the table, off which Joseph cleared a box and some various unpacked items. He joined the two soon thereafter.

"To what do we owe this visit?" Joseph asked. Burgundy considered how she should start this conversation.

"I'm not sure if you heard, but the G-Men discovered a treatment to the virus," she said. "Your daughter's Purrloin is fine now. I have her with me." Burgundy reached into her purse again, but this time, she pulled the Pokéball out into view. Marion inhaled at its appearance and briefly exchanged a look with her husband before gingerly accepting the Pokéball.

Silence followed as Marion cradled the ball in her hands but didn't open it.

"She loved that Purrloin," she finally said, quietly. "It was her first Pokémon, you know. She wasn't healthy enough to travel when she turned 10, but we wanted her to have a companion. We found Purrloin in a shelter, and it was—magic—an immediate connection."

"That poor creature," Joseph interjected, his voice gruff but his words still tender. "Does she realize what she's done?" He stopped then shook his head. "I know I can't blame her. I know the pain—the guilt—must be great for her, too."

Burgundy mentally faltered; she hadn't even considered how Purrloin must feel. She had caused the death of her own beloved trainer. Just as bad, she hadn't considered how Joseph and Marion would feel seeing the Pokémon which had caused of the death of their daughter. Everything, suddenly, felt like a massive mistake.

Marion drew her fingertips to the underside of the ball.

"She can't stay here," she quietly realized. "She'll be miserable here." Her eyes then quickly flicked to Burgundy's. "I'd like you to have her."

"Me?" Burgundy said, drawing back.

"I know you would take care of her better than we would," Marion explained. "She deserves that." Joseph nodded in apparent agreement. Burgundy stared at the couple for a while, unsure of what to say. A lump had formed in throat, but eventually, she managed to swallow and give a small nod of her assent.

Marion lifted up the Pokéball, and Burgundy was prepared to reach for it—but then Marion pressed the white release button in front, and Purrloin appeared on the wood flooring before them. Immediately aware of her surroundings, Purrloin hunched her shoulders shoulders and turned her almond-shaped eyes to the ground with a long, drawn-out, and regretful "mrr-ow."

Marion slid out of her seat and sank to her knees in front of the grieved Pokémon.

"Purrloin," she started mercifully, a tender hand reaching out to pet her. "I'm so glad to see you're well again."

Purrloin tentatively brought her gaze up.

"I want you to go with this woman here," Marion continued, gesturing toward Burgundy, "but I wanted to see you first: I want you know that what happened isn't your fault. I want you to move on, and I want you find happiness, and I want to thank you for the happiness that you _did _bring to our daughter."

Burgundy didn't know such a depth of forgiveness was possible before then, and she had never fully grasped the power that kind of charity could do in healing. She walked away a witness and believer in grace, though she was stiff as stone as she descended the steps outside the home with Purrloin's Pokéball in hand. Chili lolled his head toward her when she climbed back into the driver's seat.

"How'd it go?" he asked, sensing nothing was awry given her blank expression. The question seemed to snap her out of whatever trance she was stuck in, and she quickly fell to pieces, burying her face in her hands. Chili immediately appeared alarmed, but he reached across his seat for her shoulder, and she let him.

_**July 28th, 2009. Evening. Opelucid City.**_

Leaf left the door to the office half-open. The dark room seemed so lonely—so empty and meaningless—now, though it had been the center of so many decisions that had brought her—them—here. Leaf appeared relatively disaffected, though. She carried her wine with her as she wandered the perimeter, occasionally taking a sip each time she paused, first in front of a marked map in Unova, a board of photos of those infected, a white board which still sported the name "PLASMA" at its center.

She heard the door shift further open behind her, and turned to see Gary limping inside. Leaf craned an eyebrow.

"You weren't who I was wanting to see," Leaf said plainly. Gary scoffed.

"Cold," he said as he flicked on the light switch, finding it strange she hadn't done it herself.

"Honest," Leaf threw back with a playful shrug. Gary collapsed onto a chair.

"Do you want me to go find Ash?" he asked.

"No," Leaf answered, sounding utterly disinterested anyway. "You shouldn't be on your feet yet."

"Don't worry about it," Gary dismissed with a wave of her hand. He raised up his eyes, studying her face. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Leaf said evenly, though Gary still didn't quite believe her.

"I know this is hard for you," he went on. "This is has been your world for most of your life. You know they're—Iris, Paul, Ash—they're not going to toss you out. You'll be involved in the G-Men, and they're still going to look to you for advice." Leaf frowned as she spoke and found her way onto the sofa across from him, folding one leg over the other.

"Ash hasn't won yet," she reminded him. "They'll get along fine without me anyway. Iris and Paul have come into their own, and they'll bring Ash up to speed." Gary didn't have anything to counteract, and judging by Leaf's strangely phlegmatic demeanor, he guessed she wasn't interested in talking about it anyway. Still, he cleared his throat.

"I've been thinking," he started again, "with everything that's happened—you and I were really put through the ringer—that after this is over, maybe you and I should settle down together." That caused Leaf's brow to shoot up, and she looked directly at him again. "I'll get a bigger apartment in Viridian City, and you can actually move in, and after two years, when I have my PhD, we'll get a house in Pallet—or wherever you want to be."

"You sound grossly romantic right now," Leaf grumbled. "Stop that. If you're going to ask me to marry you, ask me when we're both slammed and we're in a place where there's a drive-through chapel and a Burgh impersonator to officiate. What, are you trying to one-up Drew?"

Gary let out a disbelieving laugh, though he supposed he shouldn't have expected a much-different reaction.

"Offer still stands," he said, and Leaf let on a wry smile.

"I'll take it into consideration."

A knock against the doorway effectively ended the conversation as the pair looked up to see Ritchie standing before them.

"Hey, uh..." he began uneasily. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"Not at all," Leaf said nonchalantly. "In fact, Gary will you give us a moment?"

Gary looked utterly confused—and suspicious—by then. Yet, he nodded and managed to rise to his feet.

"Sure..." he agreed before limping his way out. Ritchie cast him a sympathetic look, but Leaf was quick to shut the door once he was gone and give Ritchie a pointed, wondering look.

"Misty said you lost Oliver," Ritchie began, understanding the signal.

"I did," Leaf affirmed, and Ritchie was starting to become unnerved by her impassive attitude. Still, he pushed on.

"Why not move the schedule?" he asked. Leaf drew her lips together and moved back to her seat.

"Perception is reality," she began frankly as she sat down again. "I don't want it to look like I have so much stake in one ref. It makes it look like he's in my back pocket, even if he's not. Scheduling is a nightmare anyway. Kanto's League schedule has been a mess, Hoenn was put on hold, and Johto isn't far off." A pause. Ritchie's interest was piqued; so it was true that scheduling definitely had something to do with it. Finally, Leaf concluded, "I'll figure it out."

Ritchie sucked in her breath.

"I'm willing to ref for you," he declared, and Leaf darted her eyes toward him, brow raised. "This is way too important to save for people who you don't trust." He then hesitated, adding, "I... still have a lot of reservations, but I know you trust me."

Leaf was silent for a moment, considering what he said. She inhaled before saying, "You said you were worried about having to call a match between Ash and I. Are you still worried about that?"

It was a hard question, and though Ritchie had expected to grapple with it, it still frustrated him. Finally, he answered, "I still don't want to call a match of this gravity between two friends. But I don't want to see a repeat of the Silver Conference, and I don't want this to drag on any longer."

Leaf stared at him for a while. Then, her lips curled into a small, barely noticeable smile.

"I'll call Goodshow and tell him to draw up a contract," she said.

Ritchie blinked.

"That's it?" he said incredulously, and Leaf's smile only widened.

"You were always my first pick," she reminded him, "and I was wondering if after a couple months you'd come around."

_**July 28th, 2009. Late Evening. Newbark Town.**_

Lyra was half-asleep when she heard the rumble of footsteps against the hardwood floor on the bottom of her apartment, and she shot up in bed. Her breath was shallow with instinctive fear, and her eyes darted around the room for something—anything—she could use to protect herself. Then she saw her Pokéballs sitting atop her nightstand, and she breathed a tired, though still anxious "duh" to herself before grabbing one.

She quietly let out her Jolteon, who yawned loudly upon his release and stretched out his limbs. Lyra quickly shushed him, and Jolteon perked up and looked at his trainer, now fully alert.

"Check downstairs for me," she quietly requested, and Jolteon nodded before stepping lightly out. Lyra waited in bed anxiously, her hands clasped near her abdomen, listening for even the slightest sound. It came in the form of something—a stack of magazines and books, it sounded like—crashing to the ground, followed by Jolteon growling. Lyra leapt to her feet and bolted out of the bedroom and down the stairs, grabbing a broom on her way. She slid around the corner in her socks, ready to strike if necessary, but abruptly stopped when she saw the scene before her.

"Silver?!" she demanded incredulously.

The red-haired trainer stood with his arms slightly raised whilst her Jolteon bristled at his appearance. He appeared utterly unimpressed with his own predicament.

"You really ought to know by now that it's me," he grumbled. Lyra appeared indignant and ordered Jolteon to stand down.

"You really ought to understand why I should be extra vigilant," Lyra threw back, putting aside her broom and setting her hands on her hips. "Where've you been?"

Silver's hands slowly fell to his sides again.

"I know you're angry," he started.

"Yes, I _am _angry," Lyra snapped. "After what I told you, you just leave?! I thought for sure—" She stopped and shook her head. "I have half a mind to tell you to get out, and you know why I'm not. I hope you at least have an explanation."

Silver let out a long breath.

"I've done what I needed to do," he said. "And it's over now."

Lyra was still heated, but confusion visibly crossed her expression.

"Over?" she repeated doubtfully.

"Team Rocket's gone," Silver said. "There's nothing left. I made sure of it. I had to—for the three of us." Lyra's anger started to cool, but she remained wary, even as Silver reached for her hand. "I'll never leave again," he promised her. "I don't need to anymore."

.

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	31. XXX: In Which Ash Earns His Title

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Chapter XXX: In Which Ash Earns His Title

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Breathe.

There was a moment she needed to remind herself to do this, feeling the pressure of many, many eyes falling upon her. She was tempted—very tempted—to lower her gaze from her audience and shut out the trepidation that rattled her. She didn't, though. She had been explicitly instructed since her youth that professional conduct required perfect, direct eye contact; it demanded respect and brought an air of legitimacy to her position.

More than basic professionalism, however, was the element of entertainment. She needed charm; she needed to captivate her audience with her performances. This was another show, perhaps her final one, and it would end one of two ways: either she would prove her value and go on to perform another day, or she would be ousted into obscurity.

Someone said her name, but it was lost in the static inside her head. Then, it was repeated, and her world jolted back into sharp focus.

"Yes, sir?" Burgundy asked. There was a murmur of discontent among the panel, and Ricard—the one to repeat to her name—frowned.

"Answer the question," he ordered, still managing to maintain a sense of decorum in his tone.

Burgundy felt a brief flurry of panic, but instead of lowering her eyes, she darted them toward the only friendly face sitting on the panel. Cilan nodded to her reassuringly.

"There's no reason for you to be worried," Cilan had promised her earlier while alone in his office, twenty minutes before her hearing with the board began. "Just answer their questions honestly."

Burgundy, pacing his office in a half-baked frenzy, turned on him and practically snarled, "That's easy for you to say. You don't have a decade of hard work prepared to go down the drain."

"I do, actually," Cilan reminded her. "I told you that I would resign from my position and turn in my S-Class badge if you were expelled."

She knew this, but being reminded of it felt like poison. Her heart clenched, and her breath briefly grew shallow.

"I thought we had this conversation already," she said quietly, though undercurrents of anger still lay beneath her voice. "I told you I didn't want you to do that. It would be a waste."

"It wouldn't be," Cilan coolly responded. "Regardless, it's something you don't need to worry about. I am quite confident you will be fine."

She didn't know where he found that confidence. The deck was stacked against her. There was no voting member on her panel whom she fully believed sympathized with her plight. Still, recalling their conversation instilled in her enough conviction to at least recollect herself and answer the question posed.

"Yes, I knew posing as an S-Class was against policy," Burgundy answered. Another round of murmurs followed, but Gerard Poltiere remained in stony-faced silence. Cilan tapped his fingers methodically against the table surface, looking annoyed.

"Were you aware such an offense is worthy of expulsion?" Ricard asked after the other board members' voices started to fall away. Burgundy sucked in her breath.

"Yes, I knew it was," she said.

"Had you no concern for the high reputation of this association?" Ricard fired the next question almost immediately. Cilan, now definitely irritated, let his hand slap flat against the table.

"Sir, Mr. Poltiere," he started tensely, looking toward the wizened president, "are we really going to keep haranguing her with these incendiary questions?"

"Don't speak out of turn, Mr. Griffith," Ricard viciously protested before Poltiere could respond. "You are not a member of the board, nor do you have a vote. You've submitted your written evaluation to us, and we will deliberate on it. Let us who _are _on the board question her as we please so we can get a complete picture of her character."

"It is of little value to keep wallowing in something that happened eight years ago," Cilan retorted. "At some point, the board must move onto her merits."

"That's enough," Poltiere firmly interjected. "I'll agree these questions are getting to be unnecessarily contentious—Mr. Nouveau—" He gave the S-Class a pointed look, and Ricard drew back. "—but it is also necessary to explore the depth of the offense, Mr. Griffith." Cilan, too, backed off the fight. Burgundy's breath had hitched itself in her throat throughout the conflict, and everyone else also waited with bated breath as Poltiere let out a long sigh and stretched back into his chair. They knew he would soon speak again.

"Ms. Myers," he started more gently, though firmly, "can you explain the reasons behind your impersonation?"

Burgundy inhaled again.

"Sir, it was pure arrogance," she said. "I wanted the respect of an S-Class Connoisseuse, but I didn't have the patience or temperament. I was put in my place, though." She didn't dare look at Cilan then. "I learned I needed to put in the work, and I have done just that."

"Arrogance evidently still besets you," Ricard quipped, and Poltiere's own patience ran thin.

"Mr. Nouveau, I bid you be quiet," he snapped, and a dead silence followed. Ricard burned bright red, and Poltiere rubbed his temple with a set of two fingers, recollecting himself. He then sighed again, adding, "I'm satisfied with this matter. Let's move on. Ask your questions, but we need no longer dwell on the specifics of this concern."

The floor remained silent. Ricard was embarrassed and would no longer say anything—it was clear Poltiere didn't want him to anyway—but it seemed the other board members were now hesitant to speak up after the outburst. Finally, however, one—Melissa Betula, the only female member on the board—cleared her throat to speak.

"Sir, if you'll allow me this—" She cast a tentative glance toward Poltiere before looking at Burgundy. "—Ms. Myers, could you please explain: Why do you believe you should remain in the PCA despite this offense?" She posed the question evenly, and she and Burgundy immediately glanced toward Poltiere for approval.

"I'll allow it," he grunted. Cilan's lips twitched into a smile, and Burgundy looked at him anxiously, thinking about how she should respond.

"Like I mentioned before, the fallout I had with a peer over that incident taught me I needed to work hard," Burgundy eventually began, again avoiding Cilan's gaze. "And I believe I have. I've ascended the ranks; I've maintained a respectable GPA; I received a postsecondary degree meant to support my work in the PCA."

"Are you aware this peer of yours also reported you?" Connor Blanc cut in suddenly, catching her off guard.

"I... am..." she fumbled. Cilan appeared positively annoyed once more, but this time, it wasn't he who lashed out.

"Oh please, Connor," Melissa huffed, dropping formalities in her own mounting frustration. "Is this necessary or even relevant? Our purpose here isn't to rattle her. Mr. Poltiere already asked that we leave the petty specifics of the offense alone."

"This is true," Poltiere said. "Mrs. Betula, please proceed."

Connor, like Ricard before him, appeared slightly abashed. Burgundy let out a long breath, incredibly grateful, and Cilan unwound himself again. Melissa flicked a strand of hair out of her face and hummed.

"To go further on my last question," she continued, "why do you believe you should be in the S-Class program despite this offense?"

It was another fair question, and a gracious one at that—it pivoted the conversation more toward her higher efforts, acknowledged the work she had done to be on the cusp of entering the prestigious program. Yet, she found this question far more difficult to answer than any of the others thrown at her—Connor's included—and it was here she stumbled.

"I..." Burgundy started, but she trailed off, unsure of where that sentence was headed. "I-I've ascended the ranks—"

"—You said that already," the elderly Theodore Lester gruffly remarked. He was the oldest member on the board—more aged than even Poltiere—and he had remained silent throughout the hearing, up until now. Burgundy held her breath, waiting, as the elderly S-Class's thin, gray eyes fell upon her and eventually narrowed.

"Well?" he said impatiently, and Burgundy realized with a twist in her gut that he had expected her to correct herself.

"Sir, I—" She was becoming increasingly more flustered, and she nervously diverted her eyes toward the ground; the steadiness in tone and demeanor she had maintained earlier were quickly slipping away from her. "I've worked hard, I know I would also work hard in the program."

"As would every other student admitted," Theodore grunted. "What sets you apart? I can't speak for Mrs. Betula's intentions, but what I want to hear out of her question is why you're still a cut above all the other rejected applicants for the S-Class program, especially with respect to your mistakes."

Burgundy felt a lump form in her throat. She knew he was obviously referencing the impersonation report, but Karina's image flashed in her mind. She couldn't speak. By then, Ricard's embarrassment had worn off, and he looked rather smug. Connor, too, was looking vindicated, while Melissa merely appeared disappointed. Poltiere remained nonplussed. Cilan had pressed his fist to his mouth, and he was watching Burgundy worriedly.

Theodore sighed before he sinking back into his chair and tiredly pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I'll be frank," he started plainly, "I don't care to expel you. Were we holding this hearing eight years ago, I wouldn't have lost a wink of sleep turning you out from this association. But we're here in 2009, not 2001, and the real issue at hand is whether you have a place in the S-Class program. But if you can't even give me a sound argument on why you belong there, then what reason would we have to keep you at all? What reason would you have to stay? It's a waste of our time, and it's a waste of yours."

Burgundy was quiet, defeated, and unwilling to offer a defense. Theodore shook his head.

"I think we're done here," he said, and Poltiere apparently agreed.

"Ms. Myers, please step outside while we deliberate," the president said. Without objection, Burgundy turned to leave, until—

"—Mr. Poltiere," Cilan spoke up once again. "If you'll allow me to speak out of turn—" The reference was biting. "—there is a question _I_ would like to ask, and I think it would benefit the board to hear it."

Ricard looked deeply irritated, even moreso when Poltiere pursed his lips, apparently considering it. Eventually, he nodded, and Burgundy let out a shaky breath before she turned her gaze directly toward Cilan's.

"Ms. Myers—" His voice was warm despite the formality. "—Mr. Lester makes a just point. If you're not expelled, then why stay? You've explained what you learned from your mistake eight years ago. But what have you learned throughout this experience, and throughout your work, that compels you to stay in this association? What compels you to stand before this board and ask not just to remain a student, but to be admitted into the association's most prestigious program?"

Poltiere's stern expression briefly faltered; he appeared impressed. Burgundy breathed in slowly, thinking, recollecting herself.

"I watched one of my students die—" She stumbled, wondering if she was too forward, too emotional, or if she should correct herself—Karina was technically Cilan's student, not hers—but the blunder, if it was one, was excused, as she suddenly had the entire room rapt with her few bold words to begin. "—and while I know the association never found fault with me there—" Ricard's lip twitched. "—I've spent a long time wondering what I could have done differently—what I missed in my evaluations, what I lacked in my knowledge that could have prevented it—and I still can't come up with the answers."

Melissa folded her hands together, frowning, not angry, but saddened. Cilan kept his expression even. Poltiere was watching her carefully.

"I still don't understand a lot about the relationship between humans and Pokémon. I think I actually learned throughout all this that I know less than I thought," Burgundy continued. "I wish I knew more. I wish I had had the foresight to stop it. I was upset I didn't, and there were a lot of things—people, situations, Pokémon—I wanted to blame. But then I saw—felt—how I was forgiven, and how others were forgiven. I learned I also needed to do some forgiving, and that included myself."

She managed to tear her gaze away from Cilan's then and look back at Theodore.

"Maybe I'm not a cut above any of the other applicants, but I want to be," Burgundy said. "I want to be in this program because I want to know more. I want to be better." A beat of silence followed. Burgundy grew more anxious, finishing, "That's... all... I have to say..."

Poltiere pressed his lips into a hard line.

"Then you're dismissed, Ms. Myers, while we deliberate," he said. Burgundy turned again and stiffly hurried out.

As soon as the door shut behind her, Ricard let out a short, indignant hum before saying, "Well, I make a motion to—"

"—Don't get ahead of yourself, Mr. Nouveau," Poltiere warned. "You, yourself, said we would deliberate on Mr. Griffith's evaluation, and that we shall do. Mr. Griffith?" Cilan nodded before quietly opening up a manila folder and sliding out a single printed sheet, handing it to Poltiere.

Burgundy, meanwhile, collapsed into a chair in the hall, her face falling into her hands. She had blown it. Now there was nothing she could do but wait.

**_August 29th, 2009. Late Morning. Indigo Plateau._**

Waiting was the worst of it.

The anticipation was relentless. It consumed him to the point where he wasn't sure if he was light-headed with excitement or about to pass out from nausea. Maybe it was a little of both, but he still had a good half-hour to figure it out. He was back in the same waiting room—it had been long enough—and he was pacing around the edge as he had done several times before, glancing at all the promotional posters for each Indigo Conference. A new addition had been added to the collection since his last visitation: The 2009 Conference, his victory, which had brought him here.

"Pikapi?" Pikachu inquired, noticing his trainer's fidgety behavior: Ash was swinging his arms and bouncing lightly on his feet as he moved. He'd been more controlled during the other matches, even when up against Misty.

"I'm fine," Ash assured his partner with a grin. "I just got a lot on my mind, ya know?" Pikachu folded his arms and nodded understandingly, but his ears perked up when another voice broke in from behind the two.

"Care to share?" It was Misty herself. Ash's temporary look of surprise melted back into a thin smile.

"Are you even allowed to be here?" he half-teased, but Misty shrugged it off.

"Lance isn't here and Leaf's obviously busy herself, so I have no reason to worry," she said coolly. She strode forward, asking again, "So? You want to talk?"

Ash, too, shrugged.

"I mean, I guess it's the same general thing we've been talking about for a while now," he said. A pause. "I want to win—I want to win _so bad_, and I want to have a good battle—but there's a lot that happens if I win. Me becoming Champion would be big; losing Leaf as a Champion would be big, too. I'd be the first Champion to have, y'know, officially _won _my title in a conference in like... decades."

"It couldn't get any bigger that; it's a big responsibility, and you'd have big shoes to fill," Misty agreed, and Ash glowered at her. She let out a short laugh at his expression but laid a hand on his shoulder, saying in a low voice, "Ash, you're ready."

Ash's lips twitched back into a smile. Pikachu grinned at his trainer confidently and leapt onto his shoulder, offering his own firm words of encouragement. Ash's smile widened as he scratched beneath Pikachu's head and looked back at Misty.

"Are you gonna be sad if Leaf loses?" he asked, catching her by surprise.

"I'll be happy that you won," she emphasized.

"I know," Ash said with a nod. "But will you be sad that Leaf is no longer the Champion?"

Misty pursed her lips.

"It'll be bittersweet," she admitted. Ash sighed but didn't let his expression sink into sadness.

"I wish it could be different," he said, lifting his hand slightly and fidgeting with the new bracelet that adorned it. He'd repeated this often to her. "I don't like taking away things. I don't want to end a legacy that's just started."

"This is just the way things are," Misty said, by now sounding a little tired of the lament. "You'd be starting a new legacy—a better one. This was the goal." She clasped her hands together and looked toward the door. "I need to go. I'm actually sneaking into the stands with your mom and the others instead of the Champion box." She turned to leave, but Ash quickly called out to her.

"Hey! Don't I get a good luck kiss?" he asked wryly.

Misty smirked and spun back around, shooting back, "I'll give you one if you win."

* * *

Iris's hand rested on the side table near her seat, her fingers lingering near her cell phone.

She was sitting alone in the Champion box, though she was, in fact, not alone. Wallace was slowly pacing in front of the glass windows, rubbing his hands together thoughtfully, while Winona watched him carefully from a nearby seat. Leaf's Elite Four, though short one member, were also present; Will was periodically checking his watch. The clock was running down until the scheduled start time. Lance was noticeably absent, as was Paul. The room was silent, and Iris could hardly stand it.

"You know," the Unova Champion started amicably, looking back at the Elite Three, "I've always wondered what goes through the minds of Elite Four members during these kind of matches."

Karen didn't even look up when she replied, "It's usually not a situation we encounter. Rarely do challengers make it past us, and when they do, there's little institutional worry that the Champion will lose. Leaf _has_ managed to put her title in a precarious situation, though."

"Is that a bad thing?" Winona asked from afar with a craned eyebrow.

"Not at all," Karen answered, brushing her hair back with her hand. She then let her chin fall upon the same hand with a sly smile. "I find it quite interesting, actually. I'll be watching closely to see how this plays out. I think Leaf's dedication to dragging the Champion title out of its fixed state is admirable." Iris blinked and sat taller with the realization of how candidly they were speaking, perhaps through a combination of Leaf and Lance's current absence.

"Regardless," Lorelei cut in, "our feelings on the transfer aren't necessarily important. The Elite Four should serve the Champion regardless of whom he or she is. I must admit I was disappointed when Grimsley resigned for obviously political reasons. You should be glad he's gone."

Iris bit her tongue and smiled uncomfortably.

"I don't hold any hard feelings," she said.

"And that is why you are a Champion and Lorelei is not," Will said with a wry smile. Lorelei clicked her tongue and gave him a disapproving look, to which he only chuckled.

All heads turned when the back door opened. Paul was at the entrance, but much to nearly everyone's surprise, he was accompanied by Dawn.

"Hi," Iris greeted; her voice was pitched a little higher from her own surprise. "It's nice to see you... two."

"Sorry I'm running late," Paul grunted.

"You're not late at all," Wallace graciously said. "There's plenty of time before the match begins."

"Right..." Paul headed toward the window, looking down at the empty field. Dawn followed with hesitation and, catching Iris's gaze, offered her a weak smile. Winona raised her brow and discreetly hailed her husband's attention, with which she mouthed the words, "I thought they were broken up?" He shrugged, having no answers to offer.

The new silence was broken again by a series of short knocks at the frame of the doorway. Heads turned again, this time to see Gary. His stature was supported with a walking cane.

"Sorry to interrupt," he said. "Paul, Iris? Leaf was wondering if she could see you."

Confusion crossed Iris's expression while Paul merely furrowed his brow before the two exchanged wondering looks.

"Sure," Iris agreed for both of them as she stood up. The pair filed out behind Gary, and all watched them go. As soon as they disappeared, Dawn let out a long breath and sank into a seat. She smoothed out her skirt before folding one leg over the other, avoiding the curious gazes of her company.

**_August 29th, 2009. Late Morning. Opelucid City._**

Burgundy had lost track of time. She hadn't been particularly keen on keeping it, however.

Her arms were folded, and she had slumped miserably into her chair whilst she stared blankly at the white wall before her. The words of the board members—Theodore Lester's, in particular—were burned into her, replaying over and over again in her head, and each session was as searing as the last. She had tried to drag herself to different thoughts, like what she might do after this—where she would go career-wise—but it hurt too much to think of then, so she was stuck in the same loop.

"Ms. Myers?" Burgundy snapped her head up. Melissa Betula had poked her head out the door. "Please come back in."

Burgundy sucked in her breath and nodded. She rose to her feet and languidly followed Melissa back into the room. Burgundy no longer produced an effort to look at any of the board members as Melissa returned to her seat; she only briefly glanced at Cilan, whose tired appearance was enough to confirm the worst of her doubts.

The connoisseuse brought herself to stand before the scrutiny of the board once again. Poltiere took in a long breath and hummed as he spread a series of papers in front of him.

"Well," he started curtly, "I must say, this is the messiest case I've ever had to address during my tenure as the president—which has been a very long time, might I add." Burgundy bit her lip. "Impersonating or presenting yourself as a higher rank, as has been reiterated time and over again throughout this meeting, is one of our most serious offenses, and this is only the second case I've ever had to oversee—the first being what brought the rule into existence since it should have gone without saying that falsifying your rank is an incredibly dense move."

He spoke with venom, and Burgundy winced at each punctuated word.

"I have spent years cultivating this association to host the finest Pokémon Connoisseurs in both their expertise _and_ their character," Poltiere went on. "I fervently believe there is not a more extraordinary relationship in this world than that of what is between humans and Pokémon; there can be an awe-inspiring bond between a Pokémon and its trainer, and I know that an upright, skilled Pokémon Connoisseur can help forge those bonds.

"As such, I had no qualms expelling that student years ago, and you too should have been expelled years ago had your report been properly processed. The fact you weren't was enough for me to assemble a committee to review our policies for handling such reports in the future. You seem to attract trouble, actually, as you've also forced the association to look into the safety of Pokémon in classrooms, regardless of the fact that no institutional blame was assigned to you or Mr. Griffith for the tragedy that befell Karina Valdis. _And_, you've personally forced me to reconsider the review process for accepting new students into the S-Class program and, on a broader level, how the association treats those marginalized by this association's long and imperfect history."

Burgundy's breath caught, unsure of whether she heard that last part right. She jerked her head up to look at him, at which point Poltiere briefly removed his glasses and cleaned them with the cloth nestled neatly within his front suit jacket's pocket. Ricard and Connor's eyes were practically bulging. Cilan had dropped the hand from his mouth, looking far more alert. This was off-script of whatever had been privately discussed.

Poltiere slid his glasses back on and peered down at Burgundy over the gold rims once again.

"You are a unique candidate for the S-Class program, to put it mildly," he said. "I don't think the association has ever considered a candidate who has so blatantly violated our high standards, however long ago it might have been. But I'm not sure what retroactive punishment would accomplish, if it would accomplish anything at all. I, perhaps, have grown softer in my older years as I now edge toward the belief that it is better to dole out the least amount of punishment for the greatest amount of change. You have been punished enough, and you have changed greatly."

Burgundy realized she still wasn't breathing.

"Arrogance has beset you—in the past," Poltiere went on. "And from it, you have learned humility, and you have learned charity. You have learned these lessons, and you have learned them in perhaps the hardest way possible. These are rare traits to find in a person, and they are the kind of characteristics I want to see in the students of the S-Class program. What still limits you, however, is a lack of confidence. You struggled to name a reason you belonged in the S-Class program, and you are lucky there is someone who has greater faith in you than you have in yourself."

Burgundy was blinking rapidly by then. She lowered her eyes, but now she could see Cilan wearing a small but extant smile. She had missed it earlier. Poltiere plucked a printed page from the set laying before him.

"Did Mr. Griffith ever share the content of his report with you?" he asked.

"No sir," Burgundy said, barely audible.

"I can't hear you."

"No sir," she said, louder, her voice shaking.

"Then I shall read it to you," Poltiere declared, holding the paper higher before himself.

_To the esteemed Mr. Poltiere and members of the PCA Board:_

_Nearly six months ago, I was assigned the task of taking Burgundy Myers under my wing to evaluate her character and_  
_assess her compatibility with the S-Class program. I admit I had my reservations. Although I was willing to offer a verbal_  
_endorsement, this would be a difficult challenge to undertake. It would require me to power my words with action, and it_  
_would require me to set aside the differences Ms. Myers and I have had in the past, which are no secret to the board. I__  
__am, however, ready and confident to stand by my endorsement._

_I have witnessed a unique ability in Ms. Myers for perseverance. This has not been an easy process for her, and it has__  
__been made more difficult by a mentorship that was bound to be contentious and painful to personal pride, and more__  
__significantly, by a tragedy of which the words to describe still elude me. These circumstances would cause most to resign__  
__to collapse, but Ms. Myers has endured, she has overcome, and she has become a better connoisseuse and a better person__  
__for it._

_Drive, however, is the minimum expectation for any student entering the S-Class program. What truly sets apart Ms. Myers__  
__from any other candidate is her humanity. She is not infallible, and therefore, she understands. She, unlike many of us who__  
__are too afraid to risk a misstep or too prideful to admit when we do, unapologetically makes mistakes, and she learns from__  
__them. The result of her imperfection is an impressive capacity for growth and a type of compassion we rarely find in the world__  
__today. She has shown a willingness to step outside herself and empathize with those with whom she disagrees or even those__  
__whom have hurt her; she has shown an ability to love and care for others even when it is painful. Many of even the most__  
__esteemed in our profession would not carve out personal time to help teach a student, a peer, as she lay on her deathbed, nor__  
__would they extend their reach toward the family. We as an association have heralded personal character—honesty, integrity,__  
__and reputation—as a cornerstone of our membership, but we have lost our solicitude._

_It is for these reasons that I assert that Ms. Myers's personal merits are not merely sufficient for her to stay in the PCA and__  
__enter the S-Class program, but that they would make her an invaluable addition. Our association needs people like Ms. Myers__  
__to restore our humanity, a necessary component in understanding the relationship between Pokémon and humans. Therefore,__  
__it is my conclusive opinion that the association turning away Ms. Myers would not just be a grave loss, it would make for an__  
__association of which I would want no part._

_Sincerely,_

_Cilan Griffith_

Burgundy's eyes were burning. Cilan's smile had widened. Poltiere set down the paper again.

"The board has voted _not_ to expel you from the association," he said. "Were I to believe Mr. Nouveau and Mr. Blanc, I would add there is logistically no place for you in our S-Class program as all the mentorship positions have been filled. However, it appears to me you already have established a strong mentoring relationship that would meet the program's requirements. Therefore, in two weeks, the fall semester for the PCA will begin, and you will enroll in classes for the S-Class program with Cilan Griffith guiding you as your mentor, should you consent to those terms. Do you accept?"

"I-I do," Burgundy said. Her voice was noticeably watering.

"Then this meeting is dismissed," Poltiere said. "Good luck, Ms. Myers. Do not take this second chance lightly."

Poltiere rose from his seat and promptly left the room. Others were soon to follow, but there were still some who lingered, mumbling sourly to one another. Burgundy stayed rooted to her spot, trying to catch her breath and feeling like she was about to fall apart—for all the right reasons. Melissa came by and, laying an easy hand on Burgundy's shoulder, offered her congratulations.

"Thank you." Burgundy could barely choke out the words, and Melissa only smiled and moved on as Cilan came around. He looked proud, and Burgundy's bottom lip quivered.

"Cilan, I—" she started, but she stopped short, noticing the shake in her voice was worsening.

"It's okay," Cilan assured her. Burgundy let out a strange, short laugh, pressing the palm of her hand against her eye as the first tear finally fell.

"I don't know how to thank you," she said.

"You don't need to," Cilan said. "Consider us even."

Burgundy's hand fell again, and she folded her arms.

"What was the vote?" she asked.

"10-2," he answered. "And I know where you're going with this. I'm sure the threat of the PCA losing their influence with League may have swayed some to vote differently, but hold to this: Poltiere was genuine with every word he said, as was I." She flicked her eyes toward his, and he smiled warmly. "You've earned this. Congratulations."

**_August 29th, 2009. Late Morning. Indigo Plateau._**

Ritchie frowned when he glanced in the mirror, and he wetted the tips of his fingers before attempting to pat down the cowlick sticking up at the back of his head. He looked and felt like a mess. He hardly got a wink of sleep last night, and he was running on several cups of coffee—and he had never been a big coffee-drinker before. The anticipation only amplified his apprehensions.

"Well, don't you look dashing in bright yellow?"

Ritchie didn't even have to look to know who it was. His lips twitched into a tired smile.

"Hi, Georgia," he drolled before glancing over his shoulder to see she was, predictably, with Trip. "Where are you two supposed to be?"

"I'm a member of the Unova Elite Four, which basically gives me license to wander wherever I want," Georgia said, striding forward with her arms coolly folded. When he didn't react to the quip, she glowered at him and added, "Oh, come on. That was funny."

Trip nearly rolled his eyes before inclining his head toward his friend and asking, "How are you holding up?"

"You know, I'm wondering what I might change my name to once this is over," Ritchie said with a hum.

"You're not going to need to change your name," Trip said, sounding exasperated, even if he knew Ritchie was purposefully exaggerating. "A fair match is a fair match. Call one, and there won't be any questions about it."

Ritchie pressed his lips into a hard line. It was much more complicated than that; they both knew it.

"Precedent is hard to break," Ritchie gently disagreed. "And the modern precedent is that the incumbent wins."

Georgia was listening with interest until her cell's ringtone went off. She hurriedly reached into her back pocket, presumably to turn it off, but she stopped short and mouthed the words, "Excuse me," before stepping aside to take the call.

"So are you saying you want to call the match in Leaf's favor?" Trip asked.

"I don't _want _to do anything," Ritchie corrected. "If I need to break precedent, I will."

Trip didn't initially respond. He stared, his expression unreadable, and Ritchie turned his head slightly, unsure of what to make of it. Eventually, he simply asked, "What?"

"Nothing," Trip quickly answered. "I'm not worried about you. Whatever the result is, you'll make the right call. I know that." A pause. "Take comfort in knowing that whoever wins or loses, someone's going to be having a worse day than you."

It wasn't comforting.

"Yeah..." Ritchie's voice trailed off before he checked the time on his phone. "You should go."

Trip nodded.

"Good luck," he said before returning to Georgia's side, his hand falling to the small of her back. She lowered her phone and looked at him warmly, having ended the call.

"Good news from the homefront," Ritchie overheard her say as she and Trip left the room. Ritchie turned away as soon as they disappeared from view. It wouldn't be long now.

* * *

When Misty reappeared in the general low-level stands, she was sporting a blue cap and a pair of sunglasses. It was true that without Lance or Leaf overseeing the Champion box, there was no one to goad her into forced impartiality—her fellow Elite Four members certainly wouldn't bother to raise an issue, nor would the other Champions—but that didn't mean she wanted to be noticed in the stands.

Delia had especially reserved a seat just for Misty, between herself and Brock among the line of familiar faces. When Delia noticed Misty approaching, she offered her a warm smile and small wave to indicate where they were. Misty did her best to inconspicuously slide into the row—past Tracey, past Daisy, past Professor Oak, past Delia herself, until she managed to get settled.

Brock, too, smiled at her arrival and leaned over to her, murmuring, "So what's it like being back down here with common men?"

"Oh, well, you know I love the smell of stale buttered popcorn in the morning," Misty replied flippantly.

"I realize that was supposed to be a sarcastic comment, but I actually, unironically, love that smell." Misty perked up in surprise, recognizing the voice, and she craned her neck to look further down the row past Brock.

"Hi, May," Misty greeted, blinking. The coordinator was seated with Serena and the Liscio siblings. "I'm kind of surprised to see you. I would've thought you'd still be in Opelucid."

"Dawn and I actually came together," May admitted. "We both wanted to support Ash in-person, and we both..." She paused and mysteriously floundered for a moment; Misty raised an eyebrow, but May managed to finish, "... had some different business to take care of out here, so it worked out well." Aware of her awkward delivery, May quickly tried to push the subject forward with, "Plus! It's Serena and company's last day in Napaj before they go home, and I thought it would be nice to see them off."

Her hand fell to Serena's shoulder as she said this; the Kalosian brunette let on a smile.

"That's right," Misty said with a nod. "What a way to end it, huh?"

"We'll see," Serena said. "It'll be a happy end to a really interesting trip if Ash wins."

Misty briefly pressed her lips together.

"Yeah," she said. "We'll see..."

* * *

Iris and Paul kept a slow pace behind Gary, who couldn't move well in his current state. Still, Paul was periodically checking the time, cognizant they were running out of it, and he would exchange pointed glances with Iris as the minutes fell away.

"What's she been like this morning?" Iris suddenly asked, addressing the question toward Gary.

"Acting like herself," Gary answered in half a grumble. "Hard to read, as usual."

"So not even you know what's on her mind," Paul gruffly remarked.

"On this, no." Gary shook his head. "... She has been a little more high-strung than usual these past few days. She still tends to dismiss any conversation about this in a very Leaf-like fashion though."

"I'm almost inclined to call you a saint," Paul said.

"What's stopping you?" Gary asked.

"I know you," Paul quipped.

They arrived at the incumbent waiting room. Gary pushed the door open. Leaf was seated, facing away from them, but she perked up upon hearing their arrival and turned her head. She let on a wry smile.

"Well, it's about time," she said, rising to her feet and sashaying over toward her visitors. She approached Gary first with arms folded, giving him a once-over, before lightly saying, "Get out."

Gary's lips wriggled into a smirk.

"Love you, dear," he said, and Leaf pushed on his shoulder, turning him back around. He headed out the door again, and once he was gone, Leaf sucked in her breath and briefly looked down, away from her fellow Champions. Her entire demeanor had changed, and Iris and Paul waited in a tense, almost-worried anticipation for her to speak.

"I'm not sure where to start with this, but I know I want to keep it short and sweet," Leaf finally began; her hand had risen near her face, and two fingers delicately, anxiously rubbed the back of her neck. They flicked forward again when she continued, "No matter what happens today—" A pause. "—it's been an honor. I'm proud to call you my friends."

Paul's mouth twitched, but he managed an even face. Iris was less concealed about her emotions. She swelled with them; her chest inflated, tightening, and her gaze softened.

"Leaf..." Paul was the first to speak. Despite his expression, his voice was low. "Thank you."

His words were so simple, but something about the way he said them tapped into Leaf's sensitivities. Her eyes became glossy, and she folded her arms and briefly tightened her lips.

"Now don't you cry, Paul," she said, an attempt at teasing, but her voice watered.

"I'm not crying," Paul said, straight-faced and dry-eyed. The same could not be said for Iris. She had not expected to cry—nor did she want to—but she found herself blinking tears away, though she refused to let any fall as she pulled Leaf into a hug.

"You were the best friend and leader we could have asked for," Iris said a little jaggedly, a little quickly, into her ear. "We would have been lost without you."

Leaf cracked a crooked smile.

"I beg to differ," she said, pulling back, "but thanks for the sentiment." She glanced up at Paul next, who managed half a smile himself as his hand fell to her upper arm.

"Madam Champion—" The event coordinator stumbled upon arriving, realizing there were, in fact, two female Champions present. "—Ms. Greene—it's time."

Leaf nodded and stepped away from her companions.

"There's my cue," she said. She stated to move away, then threw a wink over her shoulder. "See you before the press conference."

She disappeared. Iris felt her pocket vibrate, and she dug into it to find Cilan had sent her the text she was waiting upon:

_She's going free._

* * *

"_Welcome all to one of the most highly-anticipated battles of the decade!_" the announcer greeted over the wild cheers of the crowd. "_Today's fight is a personal one: Champion Leaf Greene, the femme fatale that captivated the nation's attention when she burst onto the scene only five years ago, hails from Pallet Town, the same home of challenger Ash Ketchum, a headlining name in Napaj..._"

The fervor was not nearly as palpable in the CIU office as it was in the stadium. In fact, a stiff, uneasy atmosphere pervaded the room. No one was working; everyone was seated in front of or near the television as the camera panned over each trainer during their introductions. Ash was smiling, waving, with Pikachu doing the same from his shoulder, whilst Leaf merely stood with her arms folded, looking confident.

In the office, Drew, especially, looked tense with a furrowed brow. He was seated next to Zoey, whose hand was pressed against her mouth. Barry was nearby, tapping both his feet impatiently against the floor and humming, sounding annoyed. Kenny leaned against the arm of the sofa, his arms, too, folded.

Dozens of eyes darted toward the door when it opened. It was Cilan.

"Has it started yet?" he asked, quickly finding himself a place to join the others.

"Nope," Kenny answered, "Goodshow's about to speak."

"Good." Cilan appeared relieved. "I was worried I might be late."

"How did it go with Burgundy?" Zoey asked. "She didn't come with you."

"Everything's well," Cilan replied. "The board voted in her favor, and she was accepted into the program. I invited her to come with me, but she told me she has a date." He paused, letting on a strange smile. "She seems to be under the impression I'm unaware she's seeing my brother. And, well, I might have been had it been Cress and not Chili, who can't be helped to keep things private."

_"... Are you ready for a good show?_" All heads snapped back toward the television. They hadn't realized Goodshow had begun.

Through the televised screams, Cilan stopped to glance around the room and, confused, leaned toward Drew, inquiring, "Where are May and Dawn?"

"They're there," Drew said, indicating the television. "They asked me if they could get the time off to go see it."

"Ah..." Cilan trailed off, then pursed his lips, giving Drew a once-over. "Are you all right? You seem... tense."

Drew made an attempt at loosening up at that.

"I'm fine," Drew said. "There are just a lot of important things riding on the outcome of today's match."

Cilan let out a breath and nodded, understanding.

"That there is," he agreed.

* * *

The cheers were almost overwhelming. This was certainly not Ash's first League match—he'd been through dozens by then—but it was his first _Champion _match, and the noise was simply incomparable to anything he had experienced before. He looked across the field at Leaf; she seemed unfazed, and at that, Ash smirked.

He would just have to learn to get used to it, too, especially after today.

Ritchie stepped up to the center edge of the field, and they both expected for him to call for their readiness—but both were caught by surprise when he instead signaled for a time-out and gestured for them to bring it in. Leaf furrowed her brow and started to move toward center-field, and Ash exchanged a wondering look with Pikachu before doing the same.

Leaf and Ash initially avoided each other's gaze when they met, but Ritchie joined both soon after, grasping a shoulder of each.

"I want a fair, clean match," Ritchie said, and Leaf smiled wryly.

"Only you can make it fair," she said, "and I can't promise it will be clean." It was then that Ash could see the cool, blue fire burning in Leaf's eyes, and suddenly, any anxieties he had about this match—about its consequences—fell away, and he, too, let on a confident smile.

"Another thing," Ritchie continued. "Remember that you two are some of my best friends—and that you are also some of each other's best friends. No matter the outcome, that doesn't change."

"Oh, that goes without saying," Ash said with a grin, and Leaf let out a short hum of agreement.

"Then that's all I needed to say," Ritchie said, backing away and returning to the edge of the field. Ash and Leaf lingered a moment longer, however.

"Show me your best, O Chosen One," she said half-mockingly, "because I'm not holding back."

"Don't call me that," Ash quickly corrected her. "I won't be chosen for this. This—I'm going to earn this."

Leaf appeared initially surprised, but then she smiled sweetly.

"We'll see about that," she said in a syrupy, taunting voice. She extended a hand toward his, and he took it, and they shook on it. Her eyes flicked perceptibly down toward his wrist, noticing his new accessory. He, too, noticed she was wearing the silver bangle from which the charm containing her Mega Stone dangled.

"I see you took Misty's advice and had your Key Stone set," she remarked, and Ash reeled back in surprise.

"How did you—" Before he could finish, Leaf had turned on her heel and was headed back to her trainer box. Ash briefly frowned before shaking it off and returning to his respective side. Pikachu leapt from Ash's shoulder to the ground.

"Are both parties ready?" Ritchie called out.

"You bet," Ash said, enlarging a Pokéball.

"Of course," Leaf agreed, doing the same.

"Then you may begin!" Ritchie declared. Ash immediately, confidently, threw out his first Pokémon, while Leaf tossed her Pokéball in the air and caught it once before following.

"Go, Scrafty!"

"Join us, Furret!"

"_Challenger Ash Ketchum begins with an interesting choice: Scrafty, a Fighting-type Pokémon endemic to the Unova region, while Champion Leaf brings out a staple of her line-up: her Furret,_" the announcer said. "_As a Normal-type, though, Furret stands at a severe disadvantage against—_"

"—Furret, return!" Leaf immediately thrust her Pokéball forward again. Ash stumbled at that.

"Huh?" he said, blinking.

"_Well, what's this?"_ the announcer said, a little flustered himself. "_It seems Ms. Greene wasn't satisfied with the opening match-up!_"

Leaf selected a new Pokéball from her waist and held it out, declaring, "Come on out Nidoqueen!" Cheers followed with the unexpected change, a strange kind of thrill in its own right. Ash stared dumbfounded for a moment longer before letting out a short laugh.

"All right, no problem!" he said. "We'll take it head-on anyway! Scrafty, use High Jump Kick!"

"Scra-fty!" the Fighting-type yelled as it jumped up and aimed the heel of its foot directly at Nidoqueen in its descent.

"Dodge, Nidoqueen!" Leaf commanded. With respect to her weight, Nidoqueen pivoted on her foot and narrowly avoided Scrafty, who instead came crashing to the ground. Scrafty then grasped its knee and cried out in pain, having made a terrible landing.

"It's so like you, to jump so recklessly into things—I thought you _wanted _to win," Leaf taunted, and Ash gritted his teeth. Then, without wasting a further moment, Leaf ordered, "Now, Nidoqueen, use Stomp!"

Scrafty was in a precarious position with him writhing on the ground and Nidoqueen standing tall above him, so there was nothing he could do to avoid the heavy weight of her foot as it came down directly on his chest. Nidoqueen prepared to bring her foot down again, but Ash cried out, "Scrafty, quick, when she starts to comes down again, use Head Smash!"

Scrafty pushed himself out from under Nidoqueen and leapt up, slamming its forehead against her snout. Nidoqueen cried out and fell back, grasping her nose with her claws, and Ash used the brief moment of vulnerability to his advantage.

"_Now_ use High Jump Kick!" he ordered. Scrafty came down with his heel once again—but this time, he landed it. Leaf breathed in sharply; it had all happened so fast, and she was half-impressed—it was a quick and clever turnaround—but her brief moment of admiration wasn't enough for her to slack in her strategy.

"Scrafty, use—"

"Nidoqueen, use Ice Beam!"

Nidoqueen, though on the ground, craned her neck high enough to aim a powerful icy blast at Scrafty—and with him in such close range, the impact was massive. He was blown halfway across the field, and several of his limbs were encased in ice.

"Scrafty!" Ash cried out worriedly.

"Pika!" Pikachu followed, echoing his trainer. Scrafty attempted to move, but he fell back, exhausted. Ritchie watched the Pokémon carefully, pursing his lips, before he made his call:

"Scrafty is unable to battle!"

An eruption of cheers followed. Ash jerked his head toward the jumbotron, seeing the Scrafty icon next to his profile go dark. Leaf appeared deeply satisfied as her Nidoqueen staggered to her feet.

"Too easy," Leaf boasted. "Come on Ash, I know you can put up a better fight than that!" Ash glowered at her before he called back his Scrafty and thanked him for a job well done.

"_And Champion Leaf has taken an early lead!_" the announcer said. "_But Leaf's Nidoqueen doesn't look to be doing too hot, and there's still plenty of time for Ash to even the playing field!_"

"You bet there is!" Ash said, decidedly undeterred as he enlarged another Pokéball. "Go, Sceptile!"

The hefty Grass-type appeared with a throaty cry, brandishing his leaf blades. Leaf frowned.

"_And Ash decides on Sceptile, a strategically smart choice, as Grass-types have an advantage over Ground-types like Nidoqueen!_"

"All right, Sceptile, let's start with Swords Dance and get up your attack power!" Ash ordered. The blades on Sceptile's arms glowed a blinding white, and they increased nearly twice in length.

"Fine, if that's how you want to play, then Nidoqueen, use Toxic!" Leaf commanded.

"Sceptile, Leaf Blade!"

Sceptile charged toward Nidoqueen, prepared to strike, but Nidoqueen opened her mouth and spewed a thick, purple substance at her foe. Sceptile managed to cut through the some of the substance with his blades, avoiding getting any in his eyes, thus allowing to land a clear hit. Nidoqueen fell to the ground. Ritchie waited.

"Nidoqueen is unable to battle!" he eventually declared. Nidoqueen's icon went dark, but Leaf hardly appeared upset as she returned the Pokémon—and it soon became evident why. Sceptile groaned, swaying somewhat before falling to a single knee.

"Sceptile, what's wrong?" Ash called out.

"_Uh-oh,_" the announcer tutted. "_Sceptile might have taken out Nidoqueen, but it looks like she managed to poison him pretty badly!_" Ash sucked in his breath, wincing, having reached the same conclusion at the same time.

"Hang tight, Sceptile!" Ash encouraged. "Let's keep fighting!" Sceptile groaned again but rose to two feet regardless. "Yeah, that's it!"

Leaf pressed her lips into a hard line as she retrieved another Pokéball.

"Let's make quick work of this," she said. "Go, Rapidash!"

The Fire-Type emerged in a ring of fire, landing firmly on the ground before Sceptile. Ash let out a short, unimpressed breath; Leaf was taking note from their coordinator friends and was just showing off now. Still, he knew couldn't underestimate Rapidash, especially with the type advantage.

"Sceptile might be poisoned, but that's no reason to give up on him!" he said. "Sceptile, use Drain Punch!" Breaking through its dizziness, Sceptile charged toward Rapidash with his fist clenched.

"Dodge!" Rapidash galloped away, and Sceptile stumbled forward in his miss. "Now, Drill Run!" Rapidash turned on her hoof and promptly dashed toward Sceptile from behind, sinking the tip of her horn into him. Sceptile cried out, falling forward.

"Turn, and try Drain Punch again!" Sceptile twisted around using his tail and managed to land a hit on her breast. Rapidash skidded back, and Sceptile stood taller.

"_A nice move, and that will help Sceptile ward off the effects of the poison!_" the announcer declared. "_Drain Punch restores half the user's health based on the damage afflicted._"

"Flamethrower!" Leaf ordered, refusing to lose the ground she had gained.

"Acrobatics!" Sceptile leapt up and flipped back, dodging the attack. Leaf ground her teeth together; this match-up was not as easy as she would have hoped. She ordered another Flamethrower, and Sceptile again dodged with Acrobatics. Rinse and repeat. The audience ooh'd at the display, impressed by his agility.

Ash smirked—now who was the one showing off? Leaf, however, soon realized both Pokémon were quickly tiring, and she saw the need for a new approach.

"Wild Charge!" she commanded.

"Acro—What?!" Ash looked on with wide eyes as Rapidash broke her routine and charged toward Sceptile at full speed.

It was a direct hit, and Sceptile was knocked back, at which point Leaf ordered, "Finish him with Flamethrower!" This time, it landed, and there was no question about it.

"Sceptile is unable to battle!"

Ash pressed his lips into a hard line as he called back Sceptile, his icon, too, going dark on the screen.

"Got a little cocky there, eh?" Leaf teased.

"I admit it," Ash said begrudgingly, "you got me—but it won't happen again!" He pulled another Pokéball from his waist, and the next round was on.

* * *

Misty tapped her pointer fingers together impatiently, her eyes never deviating from the battle before her. It was amazing: Both Leaf and Ash's immense skills were on full display, and it was shaping up to be the kind of battle young, aspiring trainers would replay for years to come, unaware of the massive significance that had been riding on this one match.

"_Double Team!_" Ash ordered as Leaf's Rapidash charged toward his newly-summoned Greninja. Greninja pressed his webbed hands together and, suddenly there were two, four, eight copies of him all surrounding Rapidash. Rapidash stopped her charge and looked around wildly in confusion while Leaf sucked in her breath, quickly trying to determine which was the real one and who she could order Rapidash to attack.

She couldn't figure it out fast enough, as Ash then commanded, "_Use Aerial Ace!_" The real Greninja jumped forward and struck Rapidash at lightning-quick speed.

_Are you gonna be sad if Leaf loses? _The question was bothering Misty a lot more than she would have liked. Ash losing, she justified, was the worse option; he was her best friend, and she had been his supporter since the very beginning of his journey (or, at least, from very early on—it might have taken some time to get over the bike thing). To see him lose would not only be to see a dream fall apart, but also be to see a hope for a better future crushed under the weight of an impossible, unchanging system.

Still, there was no denying there were a lot of uncertainties involved should Ash win, and Leaf's leadership would be sorely missed. Not only that, she was a friend, too.

Rapidash was down but had burned Greninja with Will-O-Wisp before being declared unable to battle. Ash, Misty noted, was looking frustrated, undoubtedly because this was the second time Leaf's status-changing strategy had nailed him. Pidgeot was her next choice.

Misty had tried for a long time to convince herself that Leaf was ready to step down. She had been entangled in the G-Men for years; it had been her life, and it was at times a toxic relationship. She had strained multiple friendships. She and Lance had become distant. It had nearly cost her Gary. The reality, however, was that Misty—everyone—had no idea what Leaf actually felt, until now.

Seeing Leaf's Pidgeot take out Greninja in one hit with Brave Bird said that she definitely did not want to leave.

May had apparently reached the same conclusion. She was bouncing her knee nervously, her teeth chewing into her bottom lip. As Ash called his partner Pikachu to the field next, she glanced back at the Champion box.

* * *

"So Leaf pulls ahead again..." Will mused aloud, a hand pressed to his chin. "Perhaps all of her efforts for a genuine match will be for naught. Ketchum simply isn't measuring up against her tactics."

The Champion box had, again, largely been rendered silent throughout the battle, interrupted only by the occasional comment from one of the occupants. Even the addition of Gary had done little to liven up the atmosphere, which was still tensely curious with Dawn seated next to Paul.

"She's a brilliant battler, for sure," Winona remarked. "Lance raised her beautifully."

Gary looked annoyed at that and ready to speak then—had Paul not beaten him to it.

"Give her more credit than that," he grunted. "She's skilled regardless of him."

Both Dawn and Iris cast him surprised looks. Gary almost looked impressed.

"She sure gave Ash and I a run for our money in wits when we were kids," Gary added. A pause. "Well, me anyway. Ash gets by on determination and short bursts of strategic thought."

Pidgeot was hit with Pikachu's Thunder, and the Flying-type lost air. As she descended, Ash ordered a Quick Attack, and Pikachu charged at Pidgeot head-on, making impact right before she hit the ground. Ritchie declared Pidgeot unable to battle, and the match was now a 3-on-3. Leaf called her Furret back onto the field.

"Maybe _you _ought to give Ash more credit," Iris said wryly. Dawn wrung her hands together, looking pale. She abruptly stood up.

"I'm sorry," she quickly apologized to her company. "I-I need to leave for a moment." Iris perked up worriedly, and even Paul appeared a little unsettled. As Dawn turned to leave, Iris reached for her hand, touching her wrist to get her attention.

"Is everything okay?" Iris asked.

"Y-Yes," Dawn reassured, wrapping her arms around her lower abdomen. "I just need to run to the bathroom."

A brief silence persisted after Dawn left. Then, Iris leaned toward Paul and murmured to him, quiet enough so no one else could hear.

"So what's going on with you and Dawn?" she asked. "It kind of caught everyone by surprise to see you two show up together today. Are you dating again?"

"I suppose."

"You 'suppose'?" Iris craned an eyebrow.

"She's pregnant," Paul said bluntly, and Iris's jaw practically dropped.

"What?!" Her voice pitched higher then, and Paul glared, a sign that she needed to keep it down. She dropped her voice again. "And you're the—?" Paul flicked his gaze away, and Iris shook her head. "How did that even happen?"

Paul was half-tempted to point out that she of all people ought to know. She was married, and it was not long ago that she too was... It was then that Paul bit his tongue. That was a fresh wound and unquestioningly off-limits.

"What does it matter to you?" he instead grunted.

"It's a really big deal," Iris insisted, whispering. "Becoming a parent is—a really big deal." The stagger in her words did not go unnoticed. Paul frowned, becoming sobered.

"I know," he said. Realizing he was painting an unideal picture of his and Dawn's relationship, he added, "This isn't forced. We were on our way to getting back together around the Unova contest anyway."

Iris pressed her lips together, thinking.

"So when you say 'around the Unova contest'..." Paul watched her from the corner of his eye while Iris did the math in her head. "A month and a half?"

"That's going to hurt," Paul said, ignoring her inquiry. His attention had diverted back to the match—Furret had managed to land an Ice Punch directly in Pikachu's gut—and Iris knew that meant she was right. Still, she wasn't quite ready to let the conversation fall by the wayside.

"Did she tell you this morning?" Iris asked. "You seem to be taking it well."

"She was scared," Paul answered, an indirect affirmation. "It wouldn't have done either of us any good for me to escalate things. She needs support."

The answer surprised Iris. It was thoughtful, sensitive even, qualities she didn't necessarily associate with Paul. He wasn't looking at her—his eyes were on the match—but she was certainly watching him then, and a closer examination brought about some unexpected observations. His eyes were clearer; he didn't look exhausted for once. The fog in his demeanor had dissipated; he looked better balanced, better equipped to handle the uncertainties of today—and beyond.

"Healthy" seemed like an odd word to describe him, but that's the word that came to her mind. She smiled and raised a hand to his upper back. He darted unreadable eyes toward her at her touch, but didn't shrug her off. Her hand eventually fell again as she, too, devoted her attention to the match.

"_Use Thunderbolt, Pikachu!_"

"_Dig, Furret!_"

Furret burrowed her way underground, narrowly missing Pikachu's attack. Pikachu gasped in alarm and looked wildly around himself in a panic; there was no telling where Furret would re-emerge.

"_Keep your head, Pikachu,_" Ash forewarned. "_And use Quick Attack!_"

Pikachu darted out of the way just as the ground beneath him opened up and Furret popped up. Ash tried to order another Thunrderbolt, but Leaf immediately ordered Furret use Dig again. Ash followed up with another Quick Attack, allowing Pikachu to escape a second time.

"Interesting," Wallace mused. "Ash is using the speed in Pikachu's Quick Attack to dodge Furret's Dig. Something will have to give, though. They can't avoid each other forever."

Pikachu and Furret fell into a pattern, a dangerous place, given Leaf had used Ash's complacency with the same string of moves to her advantage not long before. Iris was watching the routine carefully, waiting for a change, when even from a distance, she noticed a small section of the earth above one of Furret's collapse. She inhaled sharply.

"This is same strategy Leaf used on you when she battled your Electivire," Iris realized, and Paul straightened up, looking at her. "Remember? It was seven years ago, when we were... You challenged her in Ash's place. Furret kept using Dig to tunnel under your Pokémon, weakening the ground's stability until—"

"—I remember," Paul cut her short. Furret emerged right in front of Pikachu, at which point Ash ordered an Iron Tail. The attack launched Furret into the air, playing right into Leaf's hands. She smirked.

"_Giga Impact!_" she ordered. Furret quickly regained its wits and jetted back down toward Pikachu, and it was like seeing an old video scene on repeat.

"_Counter Shield!_" Ash commanded.

"_What?!_" Leaf blustered.

"What?!" Paul repeated, equally shocked. Pikachu fell into a spin on his back and used Thunder, creating an electric barrier in which Furret was caught. Giga Impact failed as Furret was thrown back and made a hard land on the ground.

"_Now, use Thunderbolt!_"

Furret was out, and just like that, Ash was in the lead. The crowd went wild over the display, and practically the whole Champion box had gone slack-jawed at the turnaround. Paul closed his mouth again.

"Well done, Ash," he commended.

**_August 29th, 2009. Noon. Opelucid City._**

"Holy—" Barry stopped himself from falling over, and he nearly sounded breathless. "What was _that_? That was amazing! I'm gonna lose my mind, ah!"

Staff members had risen to their feet, finally catching at least some of the fervent excitement. Anyone who had tentatively tried to get any work done had given up, and they, too, were standing before the television set.

"Counter Shield," Max answered. "It's a tactic he developed. He used it in the Unova contest, remember?" Barry glowered at him.

"C'mon, I _know _what it is," he said. "It's just been a long time since I've seen it in battle like that! Man, that was something else. It makes me wanna battle Ash!"

Leaf called back her Furret with a frown and brought out her Ampharos next. It was an eyebrow-raising choice.

"An Electric-type versus an Electric-type," Cilan mused. "It's not the most prudent match-up."

"Maybe she's running out of options?" Zoey suggested. "She only has two Pokémon now."

"Or it's strategic," Max pointed out, garnering some curious gazes. He adjusted his glasses before elaborating, "Ampharos isn't a typical part of Leaf's line-up like her Furret. I'm sure Leaf put her on the roster for that very reason."

"There might be some moves Ash can't predict," Kenny said, realizing what Max meant. Max was shortly proved right: Straight out of the gate, Leaf ordered the use of Bulldoze, taking full advantage of the field and the fact the ground was still unsteady from Furret's tunnels.

Pikachu was down. Ash's chest rose in alarm, and he quickly crossed the field boundary to retrieve his partner.

"And just like that, he lost his advantage," Drew tutted. He, however, almost sounded disappointed, perhaps even worried. He cast a glance toward Max. "You've done your research."

Max let out a short, abashed laugh in response before adding, "I've always been a buff for Champion League battles." Draw craned an eyebrow before returning his attention to the screen. Ash's next pick was Charizard.

**August 29th, 2009. Noon. Viridian City. **

"Bad choice," Lance mumbled aloud upon hearing the announcer introduce Ash's Charizard. His eyes rarely moved toward the small television screen situated near the equally small kitchen table, where he was working.

The case was an obscure one—approaching a decade old—and it was from outside his home region, from Sinnoh. The sole reason he was looking into it was an apparent sighting on a security camera in Hearthome, and he quickly wanted to close it himself before any resources could be wasted on a phantom, however notorious.

He took a long drag of his coffee before flicking through several printed stills, reaching the dated profile at the end, which contained a detailed report on the last confirmed encounter. He mumbled something about Cynthia irresponsibly leaving the case open despite all evidence pointing to a non-issue, even with the lack of a body.

Lance flicked back to a previous still.

"No, that's not her," he decided. Hearing some commotion over the battle, he added in a murmur, "Force him to withdraw. To bring a Charizard out against an Ampharos... He's trying to save a different Pokémon for your Venusaur."

"_Oh, looks like Ash was in need of a change! And... here comes Gliscor!_"

"Atta girl," Lance said before bringing his mug to his lips again.

**August 29th, 2009. Afternoon. Indigo Plateau.**

Ash stared in wide-eyed horror as Gliscor, as if in slow motion, fell to the ground in a storm of petals. Gliscor had managed to take down Ampharos with the strong type advantages, but he had not performed against Leaf's Venusaur in the way he had originally hoped; in fact, he was realizing he had massively underestimated her first partner's power.

That left Charizard, still recovering from his fight with Ampharos. Ash recalled Gliscor, murmuring words of gratitude to him, before retrieving Charizard's Pokéball.

"This is it, buddy," he said, bringing the ball close to his mouth. "I'm counting on you, OK? Let's do this together."

Charizard emerged with a roar, brandishing the full length of his wings. Venusaur narrowed her gaze and planted her stance more firmly. Leaf's lips, meanwhile, curled into a wry smile.

"So it's Kanto starter against Kanto starter," she started, raising her wrist—the one from which her Key Stone dangled—and gingerly touched her charm with her other hand. "I was waiting for this. Venusaur! Let's win this together!"

Her Key Stone lit up under the summer sun, and Ash threw an arm over his eyes as Venusaur became encased in light. Charizard similarly shielded himself from the blinding display with his wings. When he drew them apart again and Ash lowered his arm, there stood her Venusaur in Mega form.

"I knew you were," Ash murmurred, but then he smirked. Leaf seemed to wait for a moment, and when nothing happened, she perked up in surprise.

"What? You're not going to follow suit?" she asked.

"I think I'll hold off, but thanks," Ash said, looking more confident. "Charizard, let's start this with Flamethrower!"

"Brace yourself, Venusaur!" Leaf ordered, knowing the massive Pokémon would be unable to dodge at his larger size. The Flamethrower was a direct hit, and Venusaur was engulfed in flames—but with a whip of her vines, the flames dissipated, and Venusaur appeared relatively disaffected. Ash drew back with a sharp breath.

"Maybe you didn't know," Leaf said, almost looking bored, "but Venusaur, when in Mega form, gains a different ability: Thick Fat, making it more resistant to the cold and to the heat, and that includes Fire-type attacks."

"I _did_ know," Ash said, managing a smile again, even if it was weaker. "I'm just impressed."

"Thank you," Leaf said, basking in the compliment, before her expression took a deeply serious turn. "Venusaur, use Petal Blizzard!"

"Not so fast! Charizard, fly up!" Ash quickly ordered. Charizard obeyed, taking to the skies high above the storm. "Now dive down and use Wing Attack!"

Charizard flew into the storm's eye, heading directly toward Venusaur. He landed an effective hit before sweeping low near the ground and eventually landing before Ash again. The blizzard subsided as Venusaur croaked in pain; her knee had been the point where Charizard struck, cementing her immobilization. Leaf gritted her teeth.

"Venusaur might be resistant to Fire-type moves now," Ash said proudly, "but Thick Fat doesn't do anything to protect her from Flying-types."

Leaf loosened her jaw and hummed.

"Well played," she commended. "Don't get too comfortable, though. Venusaur, use Toxic!"

"Dodge!"

A thick, purple substance bubbled from Venusaur's flower and spewed forward, but Charizard took to the skies again. Ash ordered a follow-up Wing Attack, but he realized this was a mistake upon seeing Leaf's smirk from across the field. A second dose of Venusaur's toxic substance burst out as Charizard was coming down, hitting him directly in the eyes and obscuring his vision. It was then that Leaf ordered Venoshock, and Charizard, poisoned, made a crash landing.

"_Ouch! Venoshock's effectiveness increases when the foe is poisoned, and Charizard is certainly feeling it!_" the announcer said.

"C-C'mon Charizard!" Ash cried out to him. "Don't give up yet!" Pikachu tried to cry out words of encouragement too, and Charizard shifted, attempting to get up. Leaf's gaze lowered, and she almost looked sad.

"Let's end this Venusaur," she said. "Use Solar Beam."

Venusaur started gathering the sunlight in her flower. Ash breathed in heavily, calling out to Charizard again, but the Fire-type could barely stand. Ritchie was watching closely, nearing a declaration.

"Pikapi?" Ash jolted and looked down to see Pikachu grasping the bottom of his jeans. "Pika, Pikachu!" Ash furrowed his brow and looked forward again, resolved.

"You're right," he agreed. "We have to take the risk. Charizard!" Charizard turned his gaze back toward his trainer. Ash lifted his wrist, showing his Key Stone. "Let's do this!"

Charizard roared and staggered to his feet just as Venusaur had finally built up enough energy. She unleashed her Solar Beam attack whilst Ash's Key Stone activated. The explosion of light that followed was blinding, and Ash and Leaf held their breaths, waiting for the ensuing debris to dissipate. Ritchie rose his hand, about to make a call.

Then Charizard soared above the smoke in his new form: He was more slender now, with a longer tail and back horn, a smaller set of wings extending from his arms, sharper teeth, the same coloring but with fiercer eyes. Ritchie let out a shocked breath, his hand falling again. Leaf's eyes had gone wide, while Ash only grinned.

The audience nearly lost their minds. Leaf was still recovering from her shock when she winced, feeling the sunlight grow harsher.

"I see..." she mused, regaining ahold of herself before smiling. "Thanks for making things easier. Venusaur, use Solar Beam again!"

"Dodge it!"

With the sun seemingly burning brighter, there was no wait time as Venusaur let loose another Solar Beam. However, in Charizard's new form, he easily sped out of the attack's reach. Leaf pressed her lips hard together. He was faster like this.

"All right, Charizard, now use Flamethrower!" Ash ordered. Venusaur, still injured from Charizard's Wing Attack earlier, was completely incapable of dodging, and she was again engulfed in flames. But this time, they were searing. When the onslaught ended, Venusaur appeared badly damaged, and Leaf bit her lip.

"Don't forget," Ash reminded her, "While the strong sunlight from my Charizard's Drought ability might make it easier for your Venusaur to use Solar Beam, it also makes Fire-type attacks really strong, Thick Fat or not!"

Charizard landed again, then unexpectedly cried out, falling to a knee. Leaf scoffed.

"Don't forget: Your Charizard is still poisoned," she said in a half-mocking tone. "Solar Beam again!"

"Dodge and use Slash!"

Charizard weaved up and under the Solar Beam attack until he was directly in front of Venusaur, where he extended his claws and dashed them brutally across Venusaur's face.

"Now that he's close, use that Solar Beam once more!" Leaf ordered. There was no avoiding it this time: The blast of light directly impacted Charizard and threw him back across the field.

"Match over, Ash Ketchum," Leaf said. "Solar Beam, one more time!"

"Flamethrower!" Ash commanded in retaliation.

The two massive forces of power collided between the two trainers and their Pokémon, and it swallowed the entire field. Pikachu covered his face with his hands, and both Leaf and Ash were required to raise an arm.

The smoke cleared.

Neither Charizard nor Venusaur were standing. Each trainer called for their Pokémon to get up, thereby earning victory, but neither could move.

Ritchie's chest felt constricted; his mouth ran dry. Shaking, he extended his hands up both ways and, with a burst of confidence, declared, "Both Pokémon are unable to battle!" Ash and Leaf jerked their heads to him in shock. Ritchie's arms fell to his side again. "... It's a draw."

The Indigo Conference stadium had never gone silent before then. Ash appeared dumbfounded, while Leaf was panting aloud, but she swallowed and was the first to raise her Pokéball.

"Venesaur, return," she said. She brought the ball close to her lips saying, "Thank you. That was an amazing battle."

Ash soon followed.

"Thanks Charizard, you're the best," he said before storing the Pokéball away again. He adjusted his cap and looked across the field at Leaf, who was staring at him blankly. Then, she jolted forward as if reality—or revelation—had physically struck her, and drew in a quick breath before smiling.

"Ash!" She sounded elated and she hurried out toward the middle of the field. Ash exchanged a confused look with Pikachu before heading out, too. She fiercely embraced him upon meeting, enough to cause him to stumble back. Ash blinked, looking even more confused; she was acting incredibly out of her element.

"That was a phenomenal battle, Ash," Leaf commended after stepping back. "I can't believe you're the same kid who woke up late on the day we got our first Pokémon. You've proven to me you're no Chosen One."

Ash wasn't sure if he was supposed to be insulted, but he grinned regardless.

"Leaf, you're the strongest trainer I've ever had to face," he said. "I mean that. Man, you really had me a couple times..."

Leaf hummed and smiled again before grabbing his wrist.

"Come on, I'm going to take you underground to the Hall of Fame," she said. "We have a lot to talk about."

"Wha—?" Ash blinked rapidly. "But I didn't—"

"Like I said," Leaf insisted, pulling him along, "we have a lot to talk about."

* * *

"A **draw**?!" Bonnie nearly screeched, leaning over the railing, far enough for her older brother to grab for her. "We've been gypped! Bamboozled! How could they not declare a winner? How could they..." Clemont managed to pull her bag and she breathed heavily for a moment before recollecting herself. "I just... That was crazy! That was the best battle I've ever seen! And now we're going home tomorrow without a conclusion?"

Serena pressed a hand to her face, practically breathless herself, before glancing at Misty.

"What happens now?" she asked. "Do they just battle again? Is it counted as a loss for Ash?"

"I..." Misty was at a loss for words. "I don't know. I've never seen this before. Have you?" She glanced toward Brock, who shook his head in response.

"I'm not much older than you," he said. "I wouldn't know any better. Professor Oak?" He appealed to the eldest member of their group, but the professor only frowned.

"I can't recall..." he mused. "There may have been a draw in an Elite Four battle before, but I can't remember."

"That's, like, different anyway," Daisy interjected. "There's not a Champion title riding on a single Elite Four match! The purpose of a Champion battle like that is to show who's the better trainer and therefore the Champion! Neither won though!"

"They proved themselves equals," Tracey added, elaborating on his wife's train of thought.

"What are they supposed to do with that?" Clemont asked.

"I don't know..."

It was then that Misty noticed May was still seated, her chest heaving in half a panic. She turned quickly, worriedly, toward the coordinator and asked, "Hey May? Is everything OK?"

"I..." Her breathing became more labored as she clutched the side of her face. "I don't know what to do! What am I going to say?! What am I going to tell him?"

"Say?" Misty questioned. "Say what? To whom? May!"

"I-I'm sorry!" May abruptly stood up. "I-I need to get some water and call Drew." She slid her way out of the row to the confusion others, despite Misty's worried demands that she explain herself.

**_August 29th, 2009. Afternoon. Opelucid City._**

"What the—?" Burgundy stared at the television screen in awe. "A draw?! Has that ever happened before?" She darted her eyes across the table toward her date, Chili, who straightened up in response. They were seated in a small pastry café, one they had specifically chosen because it had a television.

"How would I know?" Chili scoffed.

"You're a gym leader!" Burgundy said as if it were obvious.

"So? You think I'm up-to-date on the full League history?" Chili shot back.

"Well, Google it at least!" she retorted, and Chili grumbled before pulling out his phone. Burgundy glanced at the television once more, repeating, "Has that ever happened before?"

**_August 29th, 2009. Afternoon. Celestic Town._**

Cynthia and Steven stared at the television in utter, stupefied silence. Cynthia's hand rested aghast over her mouth; Steven had put aside his research entirely. Young Emily watched her parents worriedly, feeling uneasy about their behavior.

"Mom?" Emily inquired, and that seemed to snap both out of their state.

"I'm honestly speechless," Cynthia remarked, glancing at her husband. "What's the procedure from here?"

"I don't know," Steven admitted. "If my memory serves right, the League handbook merely states that a winning challenger in a Champion battle has the option to claim the title, and if so, the losing Champion is expected to step down. I'm not sure it says anything about a draw. It _does_ say Champions have the option to hand down their title at will... as long as they maintain their winning status. We saw it poorly executed with Alder and Iris."

"Ash didn't win the option to claim the title, but Leaf didn't maintain the right to deny him it," Cynthia mused. "This seems like a serious oversight."

"It's more vague, and there could be multiple interpretations," Steven went on thoughtfully. "Technically, there's nothing said about a draw in an Elite Four match either, but the text more explicitly says the challenger _must _win against the Elite Four to advance. So a draw is a loss."

"Elite Four battles and a Champion battle are very different," Cynthia reminded him. "There's less weight. There's no cultural celebrity and real power staked on it. Ash showed the world he's just as strong as the Champion."

"I agree," Steven said, pressing his hands together and leaning against them. "I don't know the answer."

"Call Lance," Cynthia suggested. "He might have some different insight."

Steven nodded and, without questioning her rare deferral to Lance, immediately reached for his phone.

**_August 29th, 2009. Afternoon. Indigo Plateau._**

As soon as he was backfield, Ritchie pulled apart the velcro on his gloves, ripping them off and throwing them onto a nearby table. He collapsed onto a chair and reached for a water bottle, taking a long swig. Charizard's Drought ability had been brutal.

He set the water bottle aside again and pressed a hand to his face. He could hear footsteps down the hallway, and it wasn't hard to predict whom they belonged to.

Georgia appeared in the doorway, her hands grabbing the frame.

"A draw?!" she demanded.

"Don't," Ritchie groaned. Trip appeared after Georgia, and he pushed past her and made his way inside. He stared at Ritchie for a moment before sucking in his breath.

"Well, when you said you were willing to break precedent, you weren't kidding," he half-laughed. Ritchie glowered at him and reached for his water bottle again. "Don't give me that look," Trip added. "You made all the right calls. That was a draw through-and-through."

"But what happens now?" Georgia asked, joining the pair. Ritchie shrugged.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I played my part, though. It's not my decision."

* * *

"I've tried her cell phone twice already."

"Well, try again!"

Paul and Iris had made their way down the backfield area on the first floor and stood alone in the hallway outside Leaf's room. She wasn't there; they had checked. Paul impatiently dialed her number a third time and pressed it to his ear. Iris waited with bated breath until he growled and hung up.

"The press is going to be a nightmare," he grumbled.

"Well, we've dealt with worse things coming out of the press," Iris morbidly reminded him. Paul tightened his lips and said nothing. Iris added, "I suppose we could try to find Goodshow."

"Absolutely not," Paul immediately said. He then pricked up when he noticed a figure emerge from a door further down the hallway.

"Leaf!" he called out to her. She made a light, surprised noise before turning on her heel to face her fellow Champions.

"Oh, hello," she said, sounding surprisingly pleasant. "Can't stay long. The press is waiting for me to speak."

"Where've you been?" Paul demanded. "Why didn't you answer our calls?"

"I've been in the Hall of Fame with Ash," Leaf said, sighing in exasperation. "There's no cell phone reception down there."

"The Hall of Fame?" Iris inquired. "But Ash—"

"—Look, all will be answered at the press conference," Leaf interjected.

"Where's Ash?" Paul bluntly asked next, deciding they weren't going to immediately get anywhere with Leaf.

"I don't know." Leaf shrugged. "He probably went to find his girlfriend. To celebrate!"

"Do you mean to say you handed him your title?" Iris asked, half-alarmed. This was not how she envisioned this transfer happening, and she wasn't quite sure if she liked the result. Their purpose was to see a Champion _earn_ the title—not be given it.

"I gotta go," Leaf said, ignoring her question. She turned away and headed back up the hallway. "Make sure you're watching!"

* * *

Leaf unflinchingly appeared in front of the dozens of cameras and dozens more of reporters who immediately began firing off questions at her arrival. She ignored them, however, as she strode to the center of the stage and stepped up to the microphone.

"Please, I'll take questions later," she said. Her audience fell to a hush. She let out a long, audible breath and gripped the edge of the podium. "What an incredible battle... I don't have a script with me—which I'm sure our esteemed League president Mr. Goodshow is not thrilled about—" She got some chuckles out of that. "—so you'll have to forgive me for my candor. Just so we are clear though, I have talked this decision over with Mr. Goodshow, however briefly."

There were less chuckles that time, only because the word "decision" sent an electric shock through the crowd. It was a serious word; it carried weight, and they were listening intently. Leaf was silent for a moment longer, however, as she thought over what she might say.

"Kanto and Johto have been sister regions for a very long time," she began, sobered. "They share one landmass under the name Indigo, unlike any of the other regions in the United Islands of Napaj, and as long as the modern League has existed, they've shared one Champion. I've been honored to be that Champion for the past two years, and there's a part of me that's sad I no longer will be."

Silence. This was a concession. Then Leaf spoke again.

"There will no longer _be _an Indigo Champion," she said, and a shocked breath swept over the audience. "Ash Ketchum and I battled for the Indigo Champion title and came to a draw, proving that we are _both_ worthy of being a Champion. As he has won the Kanto League conference and battled here today, he has earned the title of the Kanto League Champion, while I will continue to defend my half of the title as the Johto League Champion." Unintelligible noise—questions, exclamations, gasps—broke out, and Leaf's voice rose higher as she continued speaking.

"Ash Ketchum has accepted these terms and has stated he will be available for comment later," she said. "I will now take your questions."

All else was drowned out as a fervent and excited chaos burst forth.

**_August 29th, 2009. Afternoon. Opelucid City._**

"May, calm down," Drew murmured into the receiver. He sat alone in the private office of the CIU's workspace, his cell phone pressed to one ear and a pair of fingers pressed to another. The outer office had just broken out into a commotion over something, which he didn't care to hear about then.

"_I just..._" May panted from the other end of the line. "_I thought I had made this so simple. I would accept the title if he lost and decline if he won. This complicates everything!_"

"Tell him your thoughts on the matter and see what he has to say," Drew advised. "Or, just wait. We'll see how this plays out with Ash."

"_I already promised Wallace I would give him an answer today._"

"Then say you need more time."

The door opened, and Max poked his head inside.

"Drew—" he started.

"—Not now, Max," Drew hushed him. "I'm talking to your sister."

"No, Drew, you don't understand," Max forcefully continued. "Leaf split the title." Drew jerked his head back toward the younger man wide-eyed.

"What?! Wait—" Drew pulled his phone away from his ear and turned it to speaker. He then looked directly at Max. "Say that again."

"Leaf split the title," Max repeated. "Into two. Kanto Champion and Johto Champion. Ash is going to be the Kanto Champion."

Drew stared in disbelief. May was silent, apparently stunned herself. Eventually, Drew took in a deep breath and touched the edge of his phone's screen, starting, "May..."

**_August 29th, 2009. Afternoon. Viridian City._**

"_Can she do this?_" Steven asked incredulously, perhaps more dumbfounded now than before. Lance's phone lay before him on the kitchen table, from which he heard Steven speak. The case file had been set aside, and his full attention was now on the television screen.

"She already did," Lance said bluntly. "And Goodshow approved it. The Indigo title doesn't exist."

"_I thought I'd never see the day._"

"Me neither," Lance admitted. A pause. "I'll talk to you later, Steven."

"_OK. Goodbye,_" Steven said, and the call ended there. Leaf had just finished taking questions and was leaving the stage. Lance watched her face closely as she left, twisting a pencil over in his hands.

"Well, Ms. Greene, you proved me wrong," he said aloud. "You _could_ change things, and you did."

**_August 29th, 2009. Afternoon. Indigo Plateau._**

She found him in his waiting room. He was seated on the bench, staring at seemingly nothing with a dopier-than-usual grin on his face; Pikachu was on his lap, basking in the moment as well, and enjoying the scratches his trainer was giving him behind his year.

Misty let out a long breath upon seeing him, almost relieved. He hadn't been answering his phone, but she guessed he probably hadn't heard his ringtone through his happy stupor.

"You know, a lot of people are waiting on you," she said a little dryly. Ash blinked before looking her way, leaving his dream-like state.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. "I guess I've just been processing." Misty hummed but still smiled.

"Makes sense," she said, sitting beside him. "The Kanto Champion, hm? And the first one at that."

"Y-Yeah," Ash stammered. His chest visibly swelled with emotion. "Man, I can barely believe it."

"I'm very proud of you—" Misty reached for Pikachu, petting him; Pikachu let out a contented hum at her touch. "—and your Pokémon."

"Thanks," Ash said. "That really means a lot. For all of us." Misty drew her hand away, and Ash sucked in his breath. "I can't believe how lucky I am. I mean, I'm gonna get to work with Iris, Paul, and Leaf. I think Leaf has a lot of big plans after today."

"Sounds about right. You're going to make an amazing team." Her smile turned devilish when she asked, "You think you're ready for the responsibility?"

Ash glowered at her.

"Come on, you've been telling me for weeks that I'm ready," he complained.

"Doesn't mean I won't hold your feet to the fire a little, Ketchum," Misty said wryly. "And your first order of business: Leaf promised you'd be available for comment, and you ought to hold to that."

"Yeah, yeah..." He gently pushed Pikachu onto his shoulder before rising up and adjusting his cap. He looked about ready to leave, but he paused and glanced wonderingly back at her. "So... I know technically didn't win, but do I still get that kiss?"

Misty let out a short, disbelieving laugh but still rose, too, and drew him in.

* * *

May rubbed her hands together nervously when she found herself standing before the door to the Champion box. She had wrestled for a long time with how she would approach this conversation—whether she would accept Wallace's offer and become the Hoenn Champion—and though she had finally reached a decision, she was terrified. She could hardly celebrate her friend's victory as the new Kanto Champion, being so out of sorts.

The door was, predictably, closed off to her by a card key. She wasn't sure whether Wallace would be here, but it was her best guess. Finally, inwardly smoothing out her nerves, she raised her hand and knocked.

Lorelei answered, and she towered over May with a blank, almost-intimidating expression. May was briefly taken aback, but she managed a strained smile.

"Hello, I'm—" she started.

"—May!" It was Wallace. May peered past Lorelei to see him inside beside Winona. "I was wondering when I would see you."

Lorelei raised her brow, glanced at May, and hummed before opening the door further and letting her in. May quickly shuffled inside, and Lorelei left, sensing she needed to leave them alone. With Lorelei's absence, there was no one else there save Wallace, Winona, and May herself.

"I was pleased to hear from Ms. Berlitz that you two came together," Wallace elaborated.

"Yeah..." May trailed off. She suddenly wondered how Dawn's appearance had gone over, but she would have to ask later. She cast a wondering look toward Winona, whose sharp gray eyes were carefully watching her. When their gazes met, Winona frowned.

"I can excuse myself," she offered, rising to her feet and heading toward the door.

"It's fine!" May quickly said. "I don't mind if you don't." Winona raised her brow but stopped, leaning against a table. May directed her eyes back toward Wallace, who smiled in response.

"Do you have an answer for me?" he asked.

"I do." She nodded. The couple waited, and May sucked in her breath. "It's been the dream of so many trainers to become the Champion." She let out a small laugh before adding, "I remember my little brother would always rave about it when we were really little. He spent a lot of time watching matches and studying the strategies of League challengers, Elite Four members, former Champions..."

A pause. May's gaze fell.

"That was his dream," she said. "It was never mine."

Wallace pursed his lips, looking disappointed. Winona's expression remained firm.

"I see," he said.

Suddenly feeling the need to elaborate, May quickly went on, "I-I have a lot of friends who grew up wanting to be Champion. They took the Pokémon League Challenge, earned all eight badges, entered the big conference—every year! And... then a lot of them stopped as they started to realize the Champion title was unattainable. You had to be chosen for it. You couldn't earn it."

By then, it was evident where she was going with this. She wetted her lips before again continuing, "I would accept becoming the Champion if I still believed that it was unattainable. But Ash _proved_ that it's not. He earned that title. I don't want to be given a title and undo everything that happened here today."

Wallace was quiet, looking quite thoughtful. May turned to Winona, however, saying, "I-I'm sorry Winona. I know you were really hoping I would accept and that you and Wallace could get away from this. I understand. I have a fiancé, and this would have affected him as much as it did me."

Winona closed her eyes and sighed.

"Don't apologize," she said. "I agree."

This response caught both May and Wallace by surprise.

"Winona..." her husband breathed.

"It _was _special, what happened today," Winona said, pushing herself off the table before folding her arms again. "I think a lot of those disenfranchised trainers will see a ray of hope in today's match and will be entering the next conference. Wallace, I predict, will meet a worthy opponent soon." She suddenly faltered, her bottom lip slightly quivering. "You'll have to excuse me."

She brusquely moved toward the door, and Wallace called after her and was about to follow, but he paused at the door and looked back at May. She stared at him wide-eyed.

"Thank you," he said, genuine. "Your deep consideration of this was admirable. I'm truly appreciative." He turned the handle and opened the door. "You've convinced me: I won't extend an offer to another trainer."

May breathed out, suddenly feeling as though a weight had been lifted.

"Thank _you_," she said, and he nodded before disappearing. She turned back around, facing the now-empty field. She was alone in the Champion box, and she had no right to be there, and that felt a little wonderful.

* * *

"So, what do you think they're gonna ask me?" Ash wondered aloud as he and Misty made their way down their hallways, hands entwined. "I, uh, didn't think this far ahead. I forgot that Champions deal with the media a lot."

"That's something you'll have to get used to," Misty said bluntly. "I think Leaf frontloaded most of the logistics of the title split with the press, so you might not have to worry so much about that..."

Ash pursed his lips, but his thoughts were interrupted by a squeal of his name. He blinked and perked up before being nearly tackled to the ground from behind. His and Misty's hands broke apart, and Ash looked behind him in bewilderment.

"Oh, Bonnie!" Ash grinned.

"That was incredible, Ash!" the teen said, jumping back. "I can't believe you're a _Champion_ now!"

"Well, he'll need to be inaugurated first..." Ash breathed in sharply, recognizing the voice among the many now approaching. He looked over Bonnie to see Delia, pressing a hand to her cheek. "Goodness, we'll need to get you a nice suit for that, won't we?

"Mom!" Ash exclaimed.

"Honey, I'm so proud," she said, embracing him. "I always knew this day would come."

"Pallet Town has produced quite a bit of talent," Professor Oak added with a rub of his chin. "Two concurrent Champions, same hometown, having left on the same day."

"What are the chances?" Brock half-laughed before locking eyes with the new Champion. "You were awesome, Ash. That battle took my breath away."

"Oh!" Bonnie suddenly exclaimed, briefly stiffening. Everyone's eyes suddenly darted toward her, but she only smiled and looked at Clemont. "The inauguration! We'll have to come back for that! We will, won't we?"

"O-Of course we will!" Clemont insisted.

"We wouldn't miss it," Serena added with a tired smile. Ash breathed in deeply, feeling himself becoming overwhelmed once again.

"You guys... thank you!" he said. "You've been so supportive! I couldn't have done it without you."

"Now don't get too mushy there, Ashy-boy." There was a small part in the crowd, and through it hobbled Gary. And he wasn't alone, either; Leaf, Paul, Iris, and most unexpectedly, Dawn, accompanied him. "You wouldn't want that to be your new image, hm?"

Ash's mouth expanded into another grin, and he was about to speak, delighted by these new arrivals. He was deprived of the opportunity, however, when Leaf pushed her way forward, hands on her hips.

"I've been looking for you," she said, half-chastising him. "I _told _the press you'd be available for comment."

"Y-Yeah, I know!" Ash said with a nervous laugh. He supposed that with his entry into the Champion line-up, he—like Iris and Paul (mostly Paul)—was now a target for Leaf's scrutiny. And yet, he wouldn't have asked for anything different. "Misty was already on my case about it. I was on my way outside to see 'em, and then I kind of got... sidetracked..." Leaf frowned, and Ash quickly added, "But I can go now! ... Any advice before I do?"

He was addressing all three of the other Champions, and all three briefly looked surprised. Leaf was the first to recover, and she smirked before saying, "Well, you've come to the right person."

"Don't get her started," Paul mumbled, and Leaf glared at him.

"Disregard anything he says; he's terrible at this," Leaf immediately said, and Paul, in turn, glowered at her while Iris couldn't resist a short laugh. Leaf looked directly back at Ash then, continuing, "Listen, you can expect the general questions—'How do you feel being the new Champion?'; 'What do you plan to do next?'—and I think you can handle those on your own. But if anyone asks about the legitimacy of the split, just repeat what I said and _remind _them that we tied and are therefore equally deserving."

"There will be a lot of reporters, and they'll all be asking questions at the same time," Iris quickly added on. "It can get overwhelming really fast, and you can ask people to repeat questions, or if it's too much, you can always say that's all the time you have."

"Wait at least five minutes for that, though," Leaf elaborated. "Oh, and you can always ask that they speak one at a time if you really can't hear them."

"Not every question needs to be answered," Paul continued. "Avoid anything that can get you into trouble. You have a clean slate unlike the rest of us. Don't ruin that for yourself on day one."

The three of them continued to fire off any strings of advice, and Ash's smile twisted, grateful, but already feeling overwhelmed. He supposed it would be good practice, though. They might have gone on, longer, too, but another voice cut through the crowd.

"Come on, guys, he's got this," May said, joining Dawn at her side and grasping her upper arm. She seemed quite cheerful. Dawn's lips writhed into a smile, too.

"Right, he's got no need to worry," she agreed. Leaf fell back.

"Yeah," she agreed with a long breath in. "You'll be fine, Ash."

"We'll be waiting," Serena said, giving him a small push toward the door.

Ash stumbled at that, exchanging a surprised look with Pikachu. His partner only smiled confidently though, giving him an encouraging, "Pikachu-pi!"

"But bask in the moment a little bit," Misty added. "You've earned this."

"You really have," Iris agreed. "Congratulations. I didn't say it yet."

Ash stared at his company wide-eyed for a moment. He'd already gotten emotional several times since the end of the match, and he supposed one more instance couldn't hurt. He was surrounded by so many of his loved ones then, and they had been there throughout his journey—the high points, the low points, and with some of them, even into a mass grave—and it seemed so perfect they were there with him at the pinnacle of it.

He smiled again and swallowed his gratitude before he could really get choked up.

"Thanks, you guys," he said, still restraining himself. "All right, I've got this. I'll see you soon." He turned to push open the door.

"Good luck," Paul murmured, the last words Ash heard on his way out.

The party dispersed as soon as he was gone, off to find a mounted television to watch. There were a few who lingered behind, however.

Leaf leaned against the wall, suddenly feeling exhausted. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, inhaling deeply, and when she opened them again, she saw Gary standing before her. He looked proud. Her bottom lip quivered slightly, and there was a strange burning sensation in her eyes. She ran her fingers through her hair, quickly trying to regather herself.

Her hand dropped to her side again.

"I did it," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Gary smiled—a genuine smile, not his usual smirk.

"I always knew you could," he said.

.

.

**End of Part IV: The Rising**

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_Epilogue to come soon._


	32. Epilogue

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.

.

**Epilogue**

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_**October 1st, 2009. Indigo Plateau. Morning.**_

The air was cool. It was a refreshing transition from the sweltering temperatures of the past several months; summer was gone, dissipating in the autumn breeze, and the deadly living nightmare of 2009 was gone with it. The changes in the season, in the trees, were an invitation—a permission—to move on, to heal, to begin again. And begin again they did.

"Are you ready to take the Oath of Champions, Mr. Ketchum?" Misty asked, facing the soon-to-be first Kanto Champion on an outdoor stage before a massive crowd. The pair was joined by their current Champion colleagues—Leaf, Paul, Iris, and Wallace—lined up in a row behind them. Pikachu stood proudly on Iris's shoulder, waiting in suspension. Ash sucked in his breath, grinning, yet feeling so lightheaded that he might pass out.

"Yes." He nodded.

"Then please raise your right hand and repeat after me," Misty instructed, and Ash did so. "I, Ash Ketchum, do solemnly affirm—"

"I, Ash Ketchum, do solemnly affirm—" His voice had a trill of excitement in it. Leaf could hear it, and she took in a cleansing, gratified breath before raising her eyes toward the crowd. The sea of people was dizzying, and there were so many young, animated faces, exhilarated by the rise of a new Champion who had earned his title. It was comforting, thrilling even, but she remained alert.

"—that I will carry out the responsibilities of the Kanto Champion faithfully—"

"—that I will carry out the responsibilities of the Kanto Champion faithfully—"

Paul inclined his head slightly, also looking at the crowd. He briefly exchanged a look with Leaf, and they both realized that they had the same thought on their minds.

"—and will strive to preserve, protect, and promote—"

"—and will strive to preserve, protect, and promote—"

Iris noticed the direction of her companions' focused gazes, and a flicker of serious trepidation briefly darkened her expression. She tightened her face, though, and managed a weak smile again.

"—the welfare of the people and Pokémon of Kanto—"

"—the welfare of the people and Pokémon of Kanto—"

They blinked in the sunlight, still watching the crowd. Nothing was changing, and yet, everything was.

"—and the Napajian nation."

"—and the Napajian nation."

A genuine, unrestrained smile bloomed on Misty's face at the end, breaking the decorum she had kept.

"Congratulations," she said warmly, reaching for Ash's hand. The crowd exploded into cheers; Iris, Leaf, and Paul let out a collective sigh of relief and exchanged half-amused glances before redirecting their attention toward Ash. He was evidently oblivious to the mutual though ultimately unfounded apprehensions they shared, and they were glad. This was his moment, and he could enjoy it unadulterated.

Ash was positively beaming, and he had a powerful desire to kiss Misty then in celebration. He restrained himself though as Misty lightly tapped his upper arm, indicating he should turn to his fellow Champions. He did so, and Wallace smiled, uttering a polite "Congratulations" before also extending a hand to shake his. Iris followed, loosely embracing him instead with another "Congratulations"; Pikachu nuzzled his trainer while she leaned in. Paul was silent, but he nodded approvingly to Ash as they, too, shook hands. Leaf was last in line, and she grasped his shoulder before leaning in and saying, "Knock 'em dead, Ashy-boy."

Ash resisted a laugh; Gary was rubbing off on her. Misty and the Champions returned to their seats while Ash stepped up to the podium, unfolding a slightly crumpled speech from the inside of his pocket.

"It's really an honor to be here," Ash started. His voice was strong, but there was a slight tremor in his hands; he was nervous. "It's been my dream to become the Champion since I was a kid, and I know there are thousands of kids out there who also have that dream. I want those kids to know: That dream is alive, and I never want them to stop growing stronger and getting closer with their Pokémon if they feel discouraged."

Leaf folded her hands together. Her chest was swelling.

"I do know being a Champion is much more than being a good trainer, though," Ash continued. "A Champion is a leader, and there's a lot of responsibility that rests on their shoulders. I won't let Kanto down, and I won't let the other great Champions before me down either. Wallace Reyes, Paul Rebolledo, Iris Ajagara, and Leaf Greene have all been examples to me of great leaders who stand for what's right, and I can't wait to join them."

A burning sensation rose in Leaf's eyes. Paul noticed and leaned toward her.

"Now don't you cry, Leaf," he murmured. He was teasing her, she knew, but anyone else wouldn't have been able to tell from his flat delivery. Leaf scoffed and lifted a pair of sunglasses to her face.

"I'm not crying," she said.

* * *

Ash pulled uneasily at the edge of his collar. The bright, glittering lights of the grand hall made him feel a little too warm in his suit, and his general restlessness in being at such a ritzy event—one intended for him, no less—did little to help. It was evening, and the reception celebrating his inauguration had begun. This was not his first Champion reception—he'd been to two, one for Leaf and one for Paul—but this was the first in which he was the center of attention, and it was a little overwhelming.

"What are you doing here all by yourself?"

Ash perked up and turned around to see Leaf accompanied by Gary. They, like all their company, were dressed to the nines.

"Huh?" Ash blinked, and Leaf's lips—a vivid red—curved into a frown.

"This is your reception," she half-chastised him. "Mingle. These people are here for you. Here, I'll take Pikachu, and you go ask someone to dance." She extended her hands toward the Electric-type on Ash's shoulder, and Pikachu happily leapt into her arms. Ash stared incredulously for a moment, and Gary let out a short, derisive chuckle.

"She's not gonna let you slide on this one, Ashy-boy," he said. "Trust me: Getting Paul to socialize at his reception was like pulling teeth, but she did it anyway."

Now that Gary had mentioned it, Ash could distinctly remember seeing Paul at his reception looking utterly miserable. Ash's mouth writhed into an amused smile at the memory.

"I'll be fine," Ash confidently promised. "I'm a total people person!"

Leaf hummed in response before saying, "Prove it then."

Now having been issued a challenge, Ash found it much easier to move out into the formal throng of partygoers. He recognized just about every face: gym leaders from every region, Elite Four members, former Champions, famous Top Coordinators, Frontier Brains, Pokémon professors, and of course, his own friends.

"Ash!"

Ash recognized the voice and immediately grew excited. He spun on his heel and saw Bonnie waving at him with Clemont and Serena.

"Hey!" Ash grinned as he jogged over the trio. "Boy, am I glad to see you guys."

"We're glad we're getting the opportunity to actually talk to you," Clemont half-laughed. "We figured you'd be occupied all evening."

"Aw, you know I'd always make time for you guys," Ash said. Something about his own words struck Ash then, and he paused, falling quiet. His sudden thoughtful reticience was almost alarming, and his companions exchanged concerned glances.

"Is... everything okay?" Serena asked worriedly.

"Hm? Oh, yeah!" Ash quickly snapped back into the present. "I just had a thought is all." He reached his hands out toward Serena and Clemont's shoulders, then moved one down to Bonnie's "Thanks. I really, really appreciate you guys coming."

"Of... course..." Clemont said, a little unsettled by his behavior. Ash tensed up, feeling a sharp gaze burrow into his back, and he didn't have to turn around to know whose eyes they were. Right. He needed to ask someone to dance. He was ready to extend an invitation to either Bonnie or Serena when his eyes caught a flash of red over the latter's shoulder.

"Ah... I'll have to catch up with you guys later," he said, waving them off.

Ash approached a conglomeration of mainly Elite Four members of all regions with little hesitation. He personally knew a handful of them—Flint, Volkner, Georgia—but the one he wanted to see stood aside Phoebe in a blue dress, and extended a hand to her.

"Could I interrupt?" he said, and the party's conversation halted. "How'd you like to dance, Misty?"

Misty appeared surprised; Georgia raised her brow and brought her wineglass to her lips before casting Trip a suggestive glance.

"Sure," Misty eventually agreed, taking his hand. He grinned and led her away from the group, out onto the dancefloor. There, her hand rose to his shoulder while his fell to her waist, and they began to sway to the music.

"This is unexpected," Misty said. "I thought if I was going to get a dance, I'd have to ask you for one."

"Leaf told me to," Ash confessed, and Misty immediately frowned.

"You know, you should've just taken credit," she grumbled. "You'd seem more romantic that way."

Ash chuckled sheepishly, saying, "Sorry..."

She smiled and hummed, seemingly forgiving him. Ash's foot nearly stumbled, but he managed to catch himself; Misty was a far better dance partner than he, and it was good news for him. The last thing he wanted was to embarrass himself at his own Champion reception.

"So are you having fun?" Misty asked. Ash grinned and moved his hand from her waist to the small of her back, and he pulled her in closer.

"I am now," he said playfully, and Misty's face flushed red. It was an amusing and gratifying sight for Ash: It wasn't often he could make her genuinely flustered. She quickly shook it off though.

"Nice recovery," she commended.

"I try," Ash said coolly. His eyes then rose toward the chandelier above them as he continued, "To be honest, I'm just kind of in awe. Leaf said all these people are here for me, and that's kind of humbling in a way, you know?"

"You've touched a lot of people," Misty said.

He nodded, acknowledging he heard her, but it was evident he was getting caught up in his own thoughts again. As the song was ending, however, he looked directly at Misty again and asked, "Do you think you could do me a favor?"

She couldn't immediately answer as another person called out, "Ash!" They both turned to see Reggie approaching.

"Hey!" Ash greeted, pleasantly surprised. "What's up?"

"I've been looking you all evening," Reggie said, reaching into his pocket. "I've got something for you." Ash blinked, initially confused, then he sucked in his breath as Reggie pulled out a Pokéball and pressed it into Ash's hand.

* * *

Zoey jolted when her phone went off, and she quickly fumbled for the device, silencing it without ever answering the call. She was seated beside Candice at one of the many white-clothed tables, picking at their individual plates of cocktail foods, and they were in good company. Candice watched Zoey with a curious expression as she deposited the phone back into her purse, letting out a long breath as she did, and returned her attention to the conversation at hand.

"So I heard construction for the first specially-designated contest hall in Unova will begin in early 2010," Wallace said, leaning into the group. "Congratulations. Your hard work has paid off."

"Thank you," Drew graciously replied. "The hope is that Unova will be ready to host a full season with a Grand Festival by 2013."

"What will you do until then?" Winona asked.

"Well, we do having a wedding to plan," Drew said, his arm reaching for May's waist in the seat beside him. She let out a breathy, inaudible laugh at his touch. "But I'm still going to be employed for the APC as an event coordinator, and I'm taking a lot of my team from the CIU with me, which will be great."

"Yeah," Kenny added with a grin, nudging Barry in the side. "The dream team is still alive."

"Does that include you, May?" Winona asked, raising a brow at the young woman.

"Yes!" May answered, straightening up. "But I'm also going to finish school this year with DIL, and then I'll be certified to teach."

"It'll be a good fit for you," Wallace said with a nod, and May's hand curled into her lap; she glanced away but managed a weak smile. Wallace looked toward her brother next, asking, "What about you Max? Are you returning to the gym, or will you be working at the APC, too?"

"Me?" Max pointed to himself, surprised he'd been addressed. "Uh, well—" He fumbled with his words and glasses for a moment. "—neither, actually. I'm taking a break and entering the Hoenn Pokémon League Challenge."

May's brow shot up, and there were others who appeared equally surprised.

"What?!" May's voice pitched higher. "Max, you didn't tell me about this."

"Well, I'm telling you now," Max said, sounding a little indignant.

"What inspired this?" Zoey asked, folding her arms.

"I guess watching Ash battle Leaf made me think a bit," Max admitted. "And I realized I wasn't quite ready to stop competing."

It took an extra moment for the shock to wear off the others, but Candice couldn't help but grin and let out a laugh.

"I think that's awesome," she said. "I know some gym leaders from Hoenn. They're really tough, so good luck. You'll need it."

Wallace hummed and let on an interesting smile, adding, "I agree. Perhaps we'll meet again soon then."

Zoey felt her phone vibrate in her purse again. She pressed her lips together in annoyance and dug inside to retrieve it. She pulled it out to look at the caller ID.

"Hey, who keeps calling you?" Barry asked curiously from across the table.

"I don't know," Zoey mumbled. "It's an unknown number from Hearthome."

"Well, maybe you ought to answer it," Drew suggested, and Zoey gave him an odd look. Drew ignored her gaze, however, as he rose to his feet and extended a hand to his fiancée. "May, let's dance."

May appeared delighted and nodded eagerly before rising with him, too. They left, and Zoey exchanged a look with Candice before resigning. She stood up, excused herself, and took her phone away from the table.

"Hello," she started. "This is Zoey Williams speaking."

* * *

Ash's eyes scanned the crowd as he hurried through the hall, stopping only occasionally—and unwillfully—whenever someone wanted to congratulate him on his new title. He was appreciative, and the attention might have been better enjoyed under different circumstances, but he had a one-track mind, and he was on a mission.

As he weaved through people in his rush, however, he ended up accidentally bumping into the shoulder of a small woman. Realizing his error, Ash quickly and apologetically whipped around.

"Sorry! Oh... Wow, Iris, you look great!" he complimented, seeing he had in fact run into Iris and Cilan. Iris blinked but smiled, immediately forgiving his carelessness as she pulled lightly on the pink sash around her waist.

"Thank you," she said cheerfully, almost looking ready to twirl. "This is actually what I was supposed to wear at my inauguration reception."

"Ooh," Ash said, sucking in his breath and wincing. "Touchy subject, huh?"

"Don't worry about it," Iris assured him. "Maybe the one good thing that came out of that day was that I didn't have to have one. Dressing up is fun, but I'm not really into these fancy parties."

Ash chuckled and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, saying, "Me neither."

"Well, I like them," Cilan interjected, and Iris rolled her eyes.

"Anyway, what's got you in such a hurry?" she asked.

"I'm actually looking for Paul," Ash admitted. "Have either of you seen him?"

"I can't say I have," Cilan said with a frown before turning an eye to his wife. "Iris?" She shook her head though.

"What do you need him for?" Iris asked.

"Just wanted to talk to him real quick," Ash answered vaguely.

"Oh, is this about... ?" Cilan began, but he trailed off, leaving the question unfinished.

"To be honest, I wouldn't be surprised if he's left," Iris said. "I can promise he hates these kind of things more than you or I combined."

"What?" Ash blanched, sounding genuinely disappointed. "No, he couldn't have left yet. I've gotta see everyone—just after I talk to him first, though."

"See everyone?" Cilan inquired with a perplexed expression. Then he snapped a finger in remembrance, saying, "That's right. Misty came by earlier to say—" This sentence was also left hanging as Ash perked up, looking over the couple's shoulders.

"—I think I saw him, see you guys soon!" He ran off again, and Cilan tripped on his own words. Iris appeared amused at first, but she soon let out an exasperated sigh.

"He might be a Champion now, but he's still a kid," she said.

* * *

"When are you due?" Cynthia asked politely, leaning toward Dawn with sincere interest. Dawn straightened up, though she expected this turn in conversation—they had confirmed via several media outlets that she and Paul were expecting only days earlier—and she ran her hands over the deep blue fabric of her dress, revealing the definite curve in her lower abdomen.

"April 2nd," she answered with a weak smile. Paul was silent, but he kept a careful eye on her before looking back at Cynthia.

"It'll go by fast," Cynthia said, her hand lightly touching her daughter's shoulder. Emily glanced up but said nothing. "I promise that."

"It's already going fast," Dawn half-laughed. "I'm getting into some accelerated courses on DIL so I can get my degree before the baby comes."

"What are you studying?" Steven asked.

"Fashion design," Dawn answered. "I'm looking to get into PokéStyling."

"Well, I wish you the best of luck," Cynthia said. "If there's anything either you or Paul need, please let us know."

"Thank you very much," Dawn said.

"Maybe we'll be friends," Emily suddenly interjected to the surprise of her company. The child tended to be quiet at adult-oriented functions like this one.

Dawn, however, smiled again and chuckled, "Maybe."

"Hey Paul!" Paul's expression withered; he immediately recognized the voice, but he nevertheless turned as Ash jogged toward him. The new Champion grinned and continued, "Oh man, I'm glad you haven't left yet."

"I don't think I could get away," Paul said dryly, and Dawn gave him a slight elbow in the side.

Ash seemed unfazed, however, as he said, "Could you come with me for a moment? ... I wanna show you something."

Dawn perked up and looked at Ash pointedly. He only smiled at her, and then, she knew. Paul cast a suspicious glance between the two, getting the sense they were working in collusion with each other.

"... Okay," Paul eventually agreed, though still clearly skeptical of their intentions. Dawn reached for his hand, briefly squeezing it, before letting Ash drag him away. Paul cautiously followed Ash as they made their way further into the reception hall, toward the grand staircase. Ash paused at the bottom only long enough to check whether Paul was still with him before pressing onward and upward.

Upstairs, Ash found an empty, unlocked room and waited for Paul, who was lagging behind out of his growing impassivity. Ash ushered him inside before closing the door, and Paul was starting to grow annoyed with all the fussiness.

"What's this about?" Paul half-demanded once they were alone. The dim lighting combined with their sudden seclusion suddenly and strangely made Ash anxious.

"W-Well, I, uh..." Ash fumbled for a moment, now unsure of what to say to his former rival. Paul watched him impatiently, and Ash reached for a Pokéball. "Let me just show you instead." He released the Pokémon within, and Paul's breath caught.

"Where..." Paul was practically speechless, and though Ash knew him as a man of few words, the incredulous response still seemed so out of character. Paul slowly sank to a single knee. "Where did you get it?"

It was a baby Turtwig.

"Reggie," Ash answered. "After what happened to your Torterra, I talked to him and asked him to breed my Torterra for an egg. She just hatched a couple days ago, and he brought her to me tonight."

The Turtwig yawned and glanced at Paul wonderingly. Paul's hand, which had unraveled from a fist upon the Pokémon's appearance, suddenly tightened again, and Ash looked nervous.

"I didn't know how you were gonna feel about it," Ash quickly went on. "I totally understand if you don't want her. I don't want you to feel like she's... replacing your Torterra. I asked Dawn and Reggie what they thought, and they weren't 100 percent sure how you'd react, but they both thought I ought to do it anyway. Don't worry, though! If you don't want to raise her, I already talked to Cilan, and he said he'd be happy to—"

"—It's fine," Paul hastily cut him off. "I'll raise her." He extended a hand toward the Turtwig, and she warily examined it before tottering forward and letting him pet her. Ash stared in surprise, blinking, before his mouth spread into a grin. He tapped Paul on the shoulder and held out her Pokéball to him. He accepted it before standing again and holding the Pokéball out.

"Return," he said, recalling the Turtwig into its ball.

Once the seal clicked, Ash let out a short chuckle before saying, "Hey, you know, raising a baby Pokémon might even be good practice for an actual baby!"

"Don't get cute," Paul grumbled, putting the Pokéball away. He looked at the door over his shoulder. "We should get going. There are people expecting us."

"Right," Ash agreed, nodding. Paul opened the door again, but just as he was about to step out, he caught himself on the door frame.

"Ash... This was really..." Paul started, but he never finished the sentiment, and he didn't have to. "Thank you."

Ash could only smile.

"Don't mention it," he said.

* * *

"You are _far_ too cute," Leaf cooed as she rubbed Pikachu's belly, much to the contentment of the Pokémon. She sat alone at a table, waiting for Gary to return, but in the meantime, she was amusing herself with Electric-type laying in her lap. Pikachu hummed appreciatively all the while, but the noises cut out when a shadow cast itself over the pair. Pikachu sat up, and Leaf's hand fell to her side. Yet, her lips curled into a smirk.

"I was wondering when I would see you," she said.

Lance rounded the back of her chair and sat beside her. He said nothing for a while as they both looked ahead at the scene before them: famous trainers gathering at the Indigo Plateau to celebrate the inauguration of a _fifth_ Napajian Champion. And Leaf could appreciate the view with a title still under her belt.

"Are you proud?" Lance asked.

"Very," Leaf said curtly. Lance grunted, then paused, thinking.

"You knew, didn't you?" he asked.

"Knew what?" Leaf said lightly.

"Don't be coy," Lance said. "I find it interesting you were angling to have Ritchie as your referee for so long. You're too clever and not nearly selfless enough to let these titles rest purely on happenstance."

Pikachu blinked and glanced wonderingly up at Leaf, who was suddenly looking a little annoyed.

"Why are you bringing this up now?" she grumbled.

"I think you foresaw this outcome." He didn't say it accusingly; it almost came out as a matter of fact. "I think you knew Ritchie would call a draw."

Leaf hummed away her ire and flicked a piece of her hair out of her face.

"The match _was_ a draw, Lance," she said firmly. "I never told Ritchie to call it one way or another. The guy doesn't have a bad bone in his body anyway, and he would've refused if I asked."

"Leaf." The conversation temporarily halted as Gary approached. "It's almost time."

"I'll be there in a moment," she told him, gesturing for him to leave. He craned an eyebrow but turned away. Leaf rose to her feet with Pikachu in her arms. Her eyes were locked forward, settled upon the partygoers, as she said, "Everything ultimately worked out in my favor, but it wasn't all under my control. I could only set up my pieces on the board; I couldn't determine how the other players would act, and I was actually surprised it ended this way. I half-expected it wouldn't."

Lance furrowed his brow.

"Your pieces?" he repeated.

"I did wonder if Ritchie _could_ call a draw," Leaf admitted. Her gaze met his then, and she winked. "Checkmate. I win."

* * *

The air outside had a bite to it now that night had fallen. Yet, the breeze carried the pungent scent of the harbor, and it served as a powerful draw to the balcony overlooking the Indigo waters. May carefully drew up her long dress as she ascended several steps leading up to the railing with Drew in tow. She sat on the edge, taking in the blue-hued view, tinted only by the bright yellow lights from within the reception hall. Then, she lifted her head toward the sky.

"It's beautiful tonight," she sighed. "I think the last time the stars looked this amazing was... well... Reggie and Maylene's wedding." She unconsciously touched her own engagement ring at the thought.

"That was a long time ago," Drew remarked, coming up beside her. "I'm surprised you remember how it looked."

"It was a memorable night," May said, moving her right hand up to the clutch the other end of her wineglass again. She hadn't partaken much, but she already felt a little lightheaded.

"It really was." May breathed in sharply at the voice and, with a widening smile, jerked her head back to see Ritchie and Trip ascending up the stairs. Ritchie had been the one to speak.

"Oh good, you guys are here!" she said cheerfully, quickly rising to her feet as they met. "I was getting worried we'd be the only ones."

"Well, Misty said 9 p.m., and it's..." Trip flicked over his wrist to check his watch. "8:56."

"Where's your girlfriend?" Drew asked a little wryly, addressing Trip.

"I think she's having a grand old time getting Burgundy drunk," Iris answered for him; she and Cilan came up shortly behind them.

"Oh!" May exclaimed upon their appearance before she hurried over to greet the Unova Champion. "Iris, you look so pretty..."

Their group started to arrive in droves. Barry tripped excitedly up the stairs and loudly proclaimed he was going to fine the architect, much to Kenny's amusement. Dawn arrived in the company of Serena and the Liscio siblings amid a thrilled conversation about the new baby. Leaf extended a hand to Gary, offering him a touch of extra help on his ascension; his limp was barely noticeable now, but they were cautious.

Drew leaned back against the railing and folded his arms, appreciating the scene. He didn't feel as chatty as his fiancée, who was also now cooing over Dawn, but he felt very content in his company.

"Drew."

He cast a sideways glance as Zoey slid next to him on the railing. His lips curved into a smirk.

"How did that phone call go?" he asked wryly.

"So it _was_ you, then," Zoey said. She almost sounded wary, but her small, restrained smile prevented her from looking suspicious.

"I hold to my promises," Drew said with a flick of his hair; it wasn't a move he'd played in a while, but its return was well-placed. "I wouldn't have let Candice cancel your flight if I wasn't sure I could make it worth your while." Zoey inhaled, her chest expanding, but she said nothing. "I'll ask again: How did that phone call go?"

Zoey briefly averted her gaze as her smile widened.

"I have an interview with _The Hearthome Chronicle_ next week," she said. "They need a new reporter working the contest beat."

Drew broke character, and his expression and voice revealed something far more genuine.

"I'm glad," he said. He pushed himself off the railing, preparing to integrate himself with the party—Max had just arrived—but Zoey stopped him.

"Drew." He glanced over his shoulder, and when she had his eyes, she smiled again and said, sincerely, "Thank you." He nodded to her then perked up when the group buzzed at their newest arrivals.

"_There_ she is," Kenny said as Misty came up the steps with Brock in tow. "So what's this all about?"

"I don't know," Misty said with a shrug that suggested she definitely knew. "You'll have to ask Ash when he gets here."

"Here! Sorry," Ash's voice cut through the conversation, and he jogged into view. Paul was lingering behind, but he eventually made his way to Dawn's side.

"Running late as usual," Leaf teased, and Ash let out an abashed laugh. Pikachu leapt from her shoulders and rejoined his trainer, much to his delight. He grinned, petting his partner on the head, before facing the group again and turning more serious.

"Thanks for coming up here to meet with me," he started. "I just... wanted to take a moment to thank you guys. We've been through a lot together—all of us—and I know this night wouldn't be possible without any of you." His party was quiet, listening intently, and Ash rubbed the back of his head, almost embarrassed. He wasn't as eloquent as he would have liked to be. "I know this is actually something that's so much bigger than just me, but I'm... I'm glad you were all here for it."

A beat of silence followed. Then, with a smile, Serena warmly said, "We were glad to be here."

Leaf hummed in agreement and raised her glass.

"A toast?" she proposed. "To the future—Dawn, that better have cider in it." A chorus of laughs followed, and Dawn glowered at her.

"It does, thank you," she said curtly, and several more laughs followed.

"Then, a toast." Cilan seconded the motion, and a melody of crystal chimes followed. The group fell into a warm haze of conversation afterward with no one quite ready to leave and rejoin the reception. Ash interjected a comment that garnered a few laughs, and then he paused, his eyes passing over the happy faces of the group once again. Everything almost felt right, and everyone almost felt complete.

.

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**Fin.**

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_There's so much I could say with the close of this story, but I'll try to keep it short. Thank you so much for all the support I've received in writing this series - it's been nothing short of surreal to receive the kind of positive response I have - and I hope you'll still support me as I press forward in it. This will be a trilogy. Before I write the third installment, though, I hope you'll look for the upcoming short spinoff "Everything Else Is," which will prominently feature Zoey and connect the end of this story to the third._

_There are some people whom I want to thank. First, my friend and editor, Coffee Craft, who's been with me since the very beginning of the series and was hugely important in developing this story. I also want to thank my friends kasuria and toasty-coconut on Tumblr (Down-the-Line on FFN) for their input and for helping to motivate me even when it was difficult. Lastly, I want to thank all of you again for your reviews and messages. This story wouldn't be what it is without you._

_Lu_


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